Purgatory
by ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: Cursed Rumbelle in Storybrooke. "Marriage is neither Heaven nor Hell, it is simply purgatory." - Abraham Lincoln
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This is an AU where Belle was never locked in the hospital basement. Instead, Regina gave her the alternate personality of Izzy Gold, and slapped her into a loveless marriage with the most hated man in town. **

**Obviously, I don't own anything to do with Once Upon a Time. If I did, Belle would get way more screen time ;)**

* * *

Isobel Gold loved her husband. At least, she thought she did. She must have at some point. It's just that recently, she can't quite remember why. They've been married for merely three years, but somehow it feels longer. Some days when she wakes up in the morning, she can barely remember a time before she lived in the big salmon colored Victorian at the edge of the woods. She knows she used to live in the cramped apartment above the flower shop with her father, but if she really wracks her memory, she can't come up with a clear picture of what her room there looked like. That isn't quite normal is it? But as always, when these strange thoughts enter her head, Izzy pushes them to the back of her mind and goes on with her day.

Maybe it would be easier to remember why she married her husband if he was remotely lovable. But Izzy can't even remember the last time he touched her. Andrew is twenty years her senior. Most people in Storybrooke figured he only married her because the fearsome Mr. Gold wanted a pretty young thing to warm his bed at night. Izzy wonders what the townspeople would think if they knew about her virtually sexless marriage. They'd probably be relieved for her. After all, it had been quite the scandal when little Isobel French eloped with Andrew Gold, the enigmatic pawnbroker and landlord of most of the good people of Storybrooke, Maine. Her father had owed him a frightful sum of money, so at the age of nineteen, Izzy had agreed to work as his shop assistant in an effort to pay off Moe French's debts. She'd been absolutely terrified the first day she walked into his shop, the lair of the demon of Storybrooke. Izzy had never been particularly brave, never had much control over her own life. She'd stumbled through life, constantly confused, and following the path that presented itself rather than the one she should have forged for herself. When Moe offered up her services to Mr. Gold in exchange for an extension on that month's rent, Izzy had been horrified. Luckily Andrew Gold was less of a bastard than anyone gave him credit for, and interpreted "services" to mean "shop assistant". Maybe that was the first time Izzy thought of Mr. Gold as more than just the monster everyone in town viewed him as.

Izzy wasn't stupid. She knew her husband could be ruthless, that his reputation was well earned. But she'd been vulnerable to him from the first day of their acquaintance, and he'd never taken more than she was willing to give. Was that enough reason to love someone? That he'd never taken advantage of a young girl in a bad situation? That he'd behaved like a decent human being? Whatever the cause, one Friday afternoon in the back office of the shop, almost three years after Moe offered her up on a silver platter, Izzy had kissed him. It was the first time in her life that she'd done something for herself. And when he kissed her back, Izzy felt something close to contentment for the first time in her short life.

Their courtship had moved quickly after that. Kissing in the back office of the shop had progressed to lunch time trysts when he'd flip the shop sign to closed, press her against the back wall and make her come undone with just his fingers. Finally, one evening after staying late balancing that quarter's figures, Gold suggested they go back to his place for dinner. Instead of dinner, he'd stripped her bare and kissed every inch of her skin. And when their bodies joined for the first time, Izzy had whispered she loved him.

He asked her to marry him the next day. He'd laid out a simple agreement stating all her father's debts would be forgiven, and he could remain in the apartment above the flower shop rent free upon their union. The silly man probably didn't realize she would have married him without the promises to her father. Moe was only too happy to agree to the terms, sending his only child off to wed a man he didn't trust and couldn't stand all for the sake of his own comfort. A week later they stood before a Justice of the Peace in the tiny courthouse and vowed to love and honor each other 'til death do us part.

And so Izzy had moved into the salmon house, she'd quit working at the shop, and people had started talking about her in hushed whispers when she walked through town. Otherwise, her life hadn't much changed. Three years later and she'd never repeated those words she'd gasped out in the heat of passion. And Andrew had never offered them to her.

Isobel Gold loved her husband. The thought ran through her head on a loop as she cleared the plates from their dinner, a quiet affair with only the barest of pleasantries exchanged. She repeated her mantra as she brushed her teeth later that evening. And it was her last thought before she closed her eyes that night.

"Goodnight, Andrew." She said into the darkened room.

"Goodnight, Dear." He replied, before turning away from her and settling into sleep.

Isobel Gold loved her husband. If only she could believe that were true.


	2. Stagnant

Izzy had a very set routine. Every morning she woke up promptly at 5:30 am. She would shower and dress before heading downstairs to make breakfast – oatmeal with cinnamon and a cup of tea for her, toast and black coffee for him. Gold would drop her off at the Library at 7:00, though she'd usually dart across the street to Granny's for a second cup of tea and a few minutes conversation with Ruby. By 7:30 she was safely ensconced with her books, and right at 8:00 she would flip the sign to open and wait patiently to help any of Storybrooke's citizens with their literary needs.

At noon she would close up the library for an hour before heading back to Granny's to eat lunch, always a turkey sandwich, no mayo. Then it was back to the Library until 6. She would take the ten-minute walk home, if the weather was nice, to cook dinner. Gold would be home by 7:30 and they would eat in virtual silence.

After dinner her husband would head to his study to do God knows what and she was left to her own devices until she went to bed at 10.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

And Izzy was sick to death of it. She felt as though she'd been stuck in the same routine for 30 years, rather than only three. She felt stagnant.

She'd never been particularly adventurous. She didn't crave change. She didn't even try strange foods, let alone branch out and do something truly crazy. The wildest she ever got was the occasional girls night at the Rabbit Hole with Ruby and Mary Margaret. And even then she'd have one cocktail and be home by midnight, much to Ruby's chagrin.

But recently Izzy felt as though there were something restless prickling right under her skin. Like she wasn't living the life she was supposed to, that there was something more for her out there if she just took the blinders off and tried to see. Izzy typically tried to quell these sorts of thoughts when they'd rear their head, but as the years passed, it was getting harder to ignore.

Izzy was focused on these thoughts as she sat at the bar at Granny's diner at 7:15 on a Tuesday morning.

"So I told him exactly where he could stick it, and that if he didn't call Ashley soon I'd really give him a reason – Izzy! Are you even listening to me?"

Izzy jumped at the sound of her own name and looked sheepishly at the tall waitress across the counter.

"Sorry. I've had a lot on my mind. So Sean is still avoiding Ashley?"

"Never mind," Ruby said shrugging her shoulders and giving up on her train of gossip. "What's up with you? You seem kind of out of it."

"If I mention something to you, do you promise to keep it between us?"

Ruby looked scandalized that Izzy would even ask her that question.

"We've been best friends since the third grade. Do you really have to ask that?"

Izzy sighed and looked down at her tea. "I know. It's just Gold is such a private person, I really don't want any details of our personal life getting out."

Ruby pulled a face. "Wait, this isn't gonna be some weird sexual thing is it? Because I love you, but I'd rather not hear – "

"No! Of course not!" Izzy cut her off, looking around to make sure no one else in the diner was paying them any attention. "Quite the opposite, I assure you." She added under her breath.

Ruby raised her eyebrows at that and motioned for her to keep talking.

"Recently I've been giving some thought to possibly, maybe, asking Gold for a divorce."

Ruby let out a gasp, almost dropping the coffee mug she'd been cleaning.

"Are you insane!" Ruby asked in a harsh whisper. "I mean, I thought you were insane for marrying him in the first place, but are you really insane?"

"What?" Izzy asked, hardly thinking her words warranted such a reaction.

"No one breaks a deal with Gold." Ruby said, spreading her arms as if this were obvious. "The guy probably has a basement filled with dead ex wives. I don't want you getting hurt."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Ruby, he's not violent. Trust me, I've lived with the man for three years. He'd barely notice I was gone."

Ruby looked at her skeptically. "If you say so. But what brought this on? I mean, I never thought you two were happy exactly, but I thought there must be some reason you were together."

"I'm not unhappy." Izzy sighed. "But shouldn't there be more to life than just being not unhappy?"

Ruby snorted. "You are asking the wrong girl that question. If Granny hadn't had that heart attack I'd be living it up in Boston right now instead of waiting tables in this dump."

Izzy spared her friend a commiserating smile before glancing down at her watch. "Well, I have to open the library. Don't tell anyone what I said!"

Ruby crossed her heart and then put a comforting hand over Izzy's.

"You know you can always stay with us if you need to right? We've got plenty of room, not like we ever have any borders."

Izzy smiled at her friend.

"I know. Thanks, Ruby."

After closing up the Library at 6 that evening, Izzy started her walk down Main Street toward the residential side of town. As always, her walk took her right past the pawnshop. And as always, she glanced in the window to get a glimpse of her husband at work.

He was in the front room, bent over his ledger scribbling down notes with a pencil, his graying brown hair falling over his brow and his mouth set in a firm line. He wasn't traditionally handsome, this secretive man she called husband. He had neither the stoic charm of Sheriff Graham nor the blonde charisma of Dr. Whale - the two most eligible bachelors in town as Ruby so helpfully told her. But Izzy had always liked his neat form, his quick nimble fingers, his chocolate brown eyes with their flecks of gold. And the man could certainly wear a suit.

Without warning, Gold's head shot up, his dark eyes catching hers through the shop front window. She offered him a small wave while he nodded in her direction with a slight smile that didn't remotely reach his eyes. Without another glance in her direction, he returned to his books.

Izzy may as well have been Granny passing by for all he noticed her. Once she'd thought marrying mysterious Mr. Gold would be an adventure. It turned out to be just as stagnant a dead end as every other avenue Storybrooke offered.

Scuffing her boot against the sidewalk, Izzy pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders to keep out the early spring chill and headed home.

That night, lying in bed next to Andrew who might as well have been a million miles away, Izzy made up her mind. She had to get out of this constricting, suffocating town. The first step to that was ending her marriage. She just hoped she could find the courage to face the unknown.


	3. Divorce for Dummies

Mr. Gold stalked down the main street of Storybrooke much as he did every morning on his way to the pawnshop. He passed the mayor, with her smug self-satisfied smile, Dr. Hopper as he walked that annoying Dalmatian of his, Granny ranting at her scantily clad granddaughter who his wife insisted on being friends with. It was a morning just like any other. Across the street Billy was unloading a yellow Volkswagen Beetle with a crushed in side from his tow truck. Funny, he didn't remember anyone in town driving one of those ugly cars.

He unlocked the pawnshop and flicked on the lights, enjoying the serenity of his blessedly empty sanctuary. Flipping the shop sign to open, he limped his way to the back room to start work on an old clock he'd been thinking of repairing. There was no reason for him to open the pawnshop so early. It wasn't as though he received many customers at any time of day, much less at 7 in the morning. Truth be told, he spent most of his time in the shop because he didn't much relish being at home.

Before he had married, the vast old house had seemed too large and lonely with just him in it. Now that Izzy lived there too, it seemed more his wife's domain than his.

Izzy hadn't made her presence known in any obvious way. She hadn't tried to redecorate, or even brought much with her when she moved in. But she permeated every facet of his home. It smelled like her, like the subtle lilac scent of her shampoo. There were half drunk cups of tea on every surface as if something had captured her attention mid cuppa and she'd abandoned it for some other pursuit. Worst of all were the books. Gold hadn't the foggiest idea how his wife could read so many damn books at one time. There was always one turned face down over the arm of the sofa, a couple balancing precariously on her nightstand, a small stack next to the bedroom door, even a few littering the bathroom counter.

It wasn't that Gold disliked lilacs, teacups or books. But there was something about it all that made him vaguely sad. Sometimes when he'd stumble upon Izzy sitting in the big wingback chair in the library with the afternoon sun glinting off her chestnut curls, his heart would squeeze in an uncomfortable way. Once he'd thought it was love. But love shouldn't feel so much like sorrow.

If Gold really put his mind to it, he couldn't quite remember why he'd decided to marry Izzy French in the first place. It's true that she was beautiful and he was lonely, but there was more to it than that. She wasn't afraid of him. She talked to him, laughed at his quips, she kissed him. He should have left it at that, but once he'd had a taste of positive human interaction, he'd wanted more. He'd been greedy and pursued her affections and look where it got him.

Gold was a monster, but he'd never been that type of monster. He was no defiler of virgins. Call him old fashioned, but once he'd had her, he felt he had to do right by her. But that wasn't it either. He easily could have fired her after that first encounter. He could have been the cold, heartless bastard everyone believed him to be and turned her out over a kiss. Instead he'd wound up with a wife, a $50,000 debt from the town florist that would never be repaid, and a house full of books and stone cold forgotten cups of tea.

Regardless of why he'd married her, it was evident now that he regretted the decision. Three years into their marriage and Gold could barely stand to be in the same room as his petite little wife. When he looked at her, he was overcome with such sadness, a longing ache deep within him like a half remembered dream. And so he'd distanced himself from her. The conversation stopped, followed by the sex, and now they were two people living in the same house barely acknowledging the other's existence. It was no way to live. But they'd made a deal, and Gold never broke a deal.

He was pulled from his musings by the tinkle of the bell on his shop door heralding a customer. Standing stiffly from his workbench, he gathered his cane and stalked forward into the shop. He was shocked to see Izzy standing just inside the entrance, looking uncomfortably around as if she hadn't spent the better part of 3 years working in the store.

"Izzy? What on earth are you doing here?" he asked. She had rarely set foot in his little kingdom since they'd married.

"Oh, I was just on my way to the library and I thought I'd drop the car off with you," she said, shuffling forward to hand him a set of car keys. "I know it's rent collection day and it looked like it might rain. I figured you'd want to drive…" she trailed off, looking nervous.

He took the car keys from her outstretched hand, fingers brushing against hers as he did so. He tried not to flinch at the prickling sensation the feel of her skin against his caused to rush up his arm. It was the most physical contact they'd had in weeks.

"Thank you, dear." Gold said as he pocketed the proffered keys. "But, how will you get home?"

Izzy motioned over her shoulder at the diner across the street. "Ruby said she'd give me a lift during her break." She paused, blue eyes looking up at him expectantly. She opened her mouth as if to say something and then shut it again. "Well, I'd better get going."

With that, Izzy reached up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Before Gold could react she had turned on her heels and left the shop, the tiny bells jingling in her wake.

Izzy gulped in the fresh air outside Gold's pawnshop and tried to steady her nerves. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to kiss her husband. She was even more unsure as to why a chaste kiss on the cheek had left her feeling breathless. The man had been buried to the hilt in her body more times than she could count. He was her husband for Christ's sake. She supposed it was the severe lack of intimacy in their relationship as of late.

With a shake of her head, Izzy continued down the block to the library. It was her own personal sanctuary of sorts. Shortly after her marriage to the wealthiest man in town, she'd realized she needed some sort of occupation. Sitting around Gold's massive house all day reading was nice for about a day before Izzy found herself stir crazy. She occupied herself with cleaning and straightening up for about a week. But neither she nor her husband were particularly messy people. A little light dusting was all that was ever required to keep things neat and orderly. And so she had made some inquiries in town. Her new title of Mrs. Gold made sure every door was opened to her, and she had chosen the library. Unlocking the front doors, Izzy made her way into the library, breathing in the heady scent of books and dust that never failed to center her. She always felt most herself when she was surrounded by books. The confusion that she often felt when faced with the outside world would slip away whenever she immersed herself in a new literary adventure.

Izzy was sure that didn't bode well for her mental health – that she was more at ease in a make believe world rather than the stark reality that surrounded her. Frankly she'd found the real world to be endlessly disappointing. Just look at her marriage. Izzy had grown up on a steady diet of Austen and Bronte. She'd assumed that when she found "the one" her earth would move, or she'd be hit with a bolt of lightening. Instead she found herself married as part of a glorified business transaction. In the early days of their relationship she'd fancied her husband as a Mr. Darcy like character. That he was a good and gentle soul trapped under an icy exterior that only required a vivacious woman to draw him from his shell. After three years she was pretty sure there was nothing underneath Andrew's icy exterior but more ice. At this point even the physical aspect of their relationship had died down to the point where a brush of fingertips or a kiss on the cheek seemed shocking.

And that led Izzy to the real reason she'd been so nervous around her husband this morning. The problem with being married to the only lawyer in town was that he was her lawyer as well. Luckily she had a library full of books to do her bidding on that score. After flipping on the heating system, Izzy settled herself behind the circulation desk and pulled "Divorce Law for Dummies" from its hiding place in the bottom drawer.

It had been several months since her conversation with Ruby in the diner. In truth, she'd needed the time to steel her nerves. Then more time was needed to fully research her options.

Divorce shouldn't be too difficult considering their circumstances. They had no children, so there were no messy custody issues to discuss. Izzy had signed a prenuptial agreement prior to their wedding, so they would both leave with what they brought to the marriage. That was just fine with Izzy, she couldn't care less about her husband's money. She had been putting away her salary from the library for the past several months and saved up enough to give herself a head start at a new life. The librarian position came with a small apartment upstairs that she had never needed to utilize. She would simply move in there and otherwise very little about her life would change.

The only part weighing on her mind was her father's situation. His debts had been forgiven and he'd been allowed to live and work rent free upon her marriage. It followed that the dissolution of her marriage would lead to her father's debts reactivating. Hopefully three years without any bills would have been enough for her father to save up enough to counter the debt.

Izzy supposed she shouldn't feel any obligation to the man. He'd all but sold his only child to the town pariah for his own comfort. In the three years she'd been married, she'd only spoken to him a handful of times. It was as if her own father feared her now. She rather figured he felt some guilt for throwing her in the path of Mr. Gold in the first place. In any case she would help him if it came to it. She had no illusions that her husband wouldn't treat her just as coldly as the rest of the town once their sham of a marriage was ended. He was only coolly civil to her now.

Scratching down the last of her notes onto her legal pad, Izzy dropped her head down to her hands and let out a sigh. She would be a 25-year-old divorcee. Not exactly the future she had always imagined for herself. Maybe if she ever were able to save up enough money she'd leave Storybrooke. It would be awkward staying in town as the ex-Mrs. Gold. Maybe if she got a second job she could travel, see the world like she'd always planned.

Izzy stuffed her divorce book back into its hiding place before crossing the room to flip the library sign to open. It was time to start her last day as Mrs. Gold. She'd done enough research and found the correct forms on the Internet. She would ask Andrew for a divorce tonight. He was typically in a good mood after scaring the townsfolk into coughing up the rent. She had no question of whether he'd agree to it or not. He'd yet to deny her anything she asked for, except his love. If anything he'd probably feel relieved that she ended it before he had to do the unthinkable and break a deal. No, Izzy thought as she headed back to the circulation desk to start shelving the returned books. She was sure her husband wanted out of this marriage even more than she did.


	4. Awake

Gold was in a foul mood by the time he pulled up to his last stop of the night. The rain had miraculously held off, but the bitter October wind was freezing and cut through his thin suit jacket. He was lucky he had the car, as the cold did a number on his bad ankle. In addition to the weather, Tillman the mechanic had all but refused to pay the rent for his auto shop, trying to call in a favor for the last time he'd fixed Gold's Cadillac. It had taken all his willpower not to pummel the idiot with his cane. Luckily a few choice words had Tillman promising the rent plus interest by next week.

It wasn't enough to cure his foul mood though. God help Granny if she tried to give him any trouble. He limped his way up to the Bed and Breakfast and opened the door silently. He did a double take when he noticed Granny actually had a customer. That was a rare thing. She sure as shit better not hold out on him now that she actually had a paying customer.

"Now, what's the name?" Granny was asking the blonde woman with her back to him.

"Swan. Emma Swan."

Gold felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. For a moment he thought he was having an aneurysm. That name. It was so familiar.

"Emma," he said before he knew what he was doing. "What a lovely name."

"Thanks," she replied, turning to look at him.

That face. She had her mother's features but her father's coloring. The child of Snow White and Prince Charming. The product of True Love. The Savior.

It was all he could do to keep his face a mask of cool detachment. Luckily 300 years of being the Dark One had taught him a thing or two about masking emotion. The Dark One? That's right. He wasn't Andrew Gold. He was Rumplestiltskin, the spinner, the Dark One, the stealer of babes.

…Bae.

His thoughts were interrupted before they could fully form by Granny thrusting a wad of cash toward him. "It's all here."

"Yes, yes of course it is, dear. Thank you." He said, taking the cash instinctively. "You enjoy your stay," he said with one more glance at the Savior. "Emma."

With that he turned on his heel and quit the Inn.

Once outside in the cool autumn air, he let the memories wash through him. He was in the land without magic. He'd lost Baelfire, let his hand go and watched the boy fall through the swirling vortex into another land. He'd used Regina to cast the Dark Curse to bring them all here. It had worked. He was in the same land as his beautiful boy, and he'd find him again no matter what it took. Rumplestiltskin had to suppress a giddy laugh, relief washing through him. It had worked!

As the rest of his memories struggled to catch up, the part of his brain that was Andrew Gold was still fighting for dominance. Pausing briefly to inspect those false memories, he was happy to see Regina had upheld her part of the bargain. He certainly had a comfortable life – wealth and power to spare.

He was also the most hated man in town. Gold shook his head at the pettiness of his former apprentice. Isolation and loneliness were her greatest fears, not his. Regina had always had issues with projecting her own feelings and fears onto others. Rumplestiltskin was more than happy to be left alone. He had never craved universal love and admiration the way her majesty did. And then she'd topped it all off by slapping him in a loveless marriage with Izzy.

Izzy? That's right. Mr. Gold had a wife. Married only three years in their minds, but really for 28 agonizingly long years as time stood still.

Rumplestiltskin had to shake his head to try to sort the conflicting memories. His Mr. Gold memories told him that just this morning, Isobel French Gold had come by his shop and given him the keys to his car. But Izzy couldn't be real. She must be some construct of the curse sent to torture him. Because Belle, his beautiful, brave Belle, is dead. She killed herself by jumping off the highest tower in her father's castle rather than endure more torture at the hands of the clerics. Torture she suffered because of her association with him. Belle was long dead, and it was his fault. Despite what he knew to be real, Rumple couldn't contain the glimmer of hope that rooted in his heart.

He sprinted down the remaining steps of the Inn, pulling up short when he realized his ankle was a wreck as it had been prior to his Dark One curse. Cursing his frail human body, Rumple limped his way back to the car as fast as he could. He needed to get home. He needed to see her with his own two eyes, touch her. He had to be sure she was real.


	5. Not Broken

Izzy had been sitting at the dining room table staring at her plate for the last twenty minutes. Her husband was late, not that that was anything particularly new. But it was giving her more time to chicken out. It was after 8:00. She'd been expecting him home by 7:30. The trout almondine she'd made was cooling on their plates, and Izzy was losing her nerve.

She'd prepared what she had to say. She'd rehearsed her little speech over and over today as she worked in the library. She'd even packed an overnight bag, ready to check into Granny's for the evening after she finished her spiel. She was considering dumping their food and going upstairs to take a bath when she heard the front door open.

Rising from her seat at the table, the butterflies rocketed around in her stomach.

"You're late." She called to him in the foyer where he was undoubtedly taking his time dropping off his keys and arranging his jacket just so on the hall coat rack. Maybe she could goad him into a fight and he'd ask for the divorce and save her the trouble. It was a ridiculous thought. A fight would indicate he still cared.

She heard his cane tapping tentatively against the wooden floors as he made his way down the hall to the dining room, finally pulling up short in the doorway. The man standing in front of her bared a resemblance to Andrew Gold, but she felt like she was looking at a stranger. His hair was slightly disheveled from the wind and his eyes looked almost wild as he took her in like he was a man dying of thirst and she was a glass of water.

"Are you alright, Andrew? You look like you've seen a ghost."

That seemed to break the spell as he took a hesitant step toward her, then another, arm outstretched to her. When she was an arm's length away, he raised his hand to her shoulder and gripped it tightly.

"You're real? You're alive?"

Izzy was entirely unprepared for this. She'd never seen her husband anything but calm and collected. Even when they made love he took her with quiet efficiency. She'd never seen him anything less than in complete control.

"Of course I'm alive," she said, trying to take a step back out of the vice like grip of his hand. "Andrew, you're scaring me."

Before she could get more than a half step away, Gold had thrown his cane to the ground and wrapped both arms around her pulling her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair, and Izzy could swear she felt teardrops against her neck. Whatever had happened to Gold tonight, it was serious.

"Andrew?" she asked, pulling back from his embrace. "What happened?"

Gold had tears in his eyes as he stroked her cheek with one long finger. In the six years she'd known him, he'd never once looked at her the way he was currently. Before she knew what was happening, he'd taken her face gently between his palms and was closing the distance between them.

And then Izzy was being kissed like she'd never been kissed before.

It was a gentle thing at first, just the slight brush of his lips against hers. When she didn't immediately push him away he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers and stealing her breath away. His tongue traced her bottom lip and without even stopping to question it, Izzy was opening her mouth to him, their tongues tangling against each other before he ran his against the roof of her mouth making her whole body shiver pleasurably, seeking out every little secret place that could make her knees weak.

Izzy let her hands drift up over his shoulders to tangle in the long ends of his soft hair. And oh how she'd missed this. Not just her husband, but also this closeness to any other human being. It felt like something was awakening inside her and she swore she'd never think the word divorce again if he'd just promise to kiss her like this every day for the rest of their lives.

And then he was pulling away. Izzy had to hold in a whimper at the loss of contact, her hands gripping her husband's shoulders to keep her knees from buckling. He was staring at her intently, as if searching for something.

"Belle?" he asked breathlessly. There was something in the back of her mind that prickled at the old nickname.

Izzy's brow crinkled in confusion. "Belle? My mother used to call me that. You've never called me that before."

Izzy watched as something like disappointment crossed her husband's face. And then he was pulling away, his calm cool demeanor back in place.

"I'm sorry I'm late, dear. Collections took longer than I thought they would. I hope you weren't worried."

Izzy stepped back, straightening her blouse and immediately missing the warmth of his body against hers. "No of course not. I'm afraid dinner's a little cold but I could heat it up – "

Izzy trailed off noticing that Andrew wasn't paying attention to her, but was instead staring at something in the hallway.

Shit! Her small leather duffel bag filled with her toiletries, pajamas and a change of clothes was sitting innocuously against the wall, ready for her to grab on her way out the door after she ended their marriage with a word. It all suddenly seemed more complicated than it had an hour ago when she'd placed it there.

"You're leaving me." It isn't a question, but a statement. And he doesn't sound angry, only resigned. As though he's expected this moment for some time.

Izzy isn't sure what to say to that. "I – I thought…"

He turned to look at her with a sad smile, "It's alright, sweetheart. You don't have to explain yourself. But you stay here, I'll go sleep at the shop."

"No, wait!" Izzy exclaimed, reaching out to grab his arm. "We need to talk about this. I mean I had a whole speech."

"I'm a bastard, and I don't deserve you. I never have." He said with a resigned sigh. "Is there anything else to add?"

Izzy really isn't sure how to answer that. But that's when it hits her. She doesn't want to leave. She doesn't want to continue on as they have been. She'd like to see more of the passionate man who just snogged her senseless and less of the uptight businessman. She'd like to travel, to leave this suffocating town occasionally. But she doesn't want this to end, not completely. Because she loved this man once, and she'd like to again.

"I don't want to leave you, but we can't keep going like we have been. I'm not happy and I know you're not either. I think maybe we could be, if we tried."

He let out a snort of laughter at that, but if Izzy has said anything funny she's not sure what it is.

"Happiness is a rare commodity in this town, dearie."

"You know I hate it when you call me that," Izzy shuddered. That's his term of endearment for the little people in town, the ones he wants to put in their place. It's his way of showing power, and Izzy doesn't like it directed at her.

And suddenly it's like something has changed in his eyes, he's back to being the man who kissed her so sweetly only minutes before. "I know sweetheart. It's been a long day."

With a nod Izzy moved to begin cleaning up the dinner table. "Why don't you go on up to bed. I'll be up in a bit."

A hopeful look fluttered across her husband's face at her words. "You're staying?"

"I didn't really expect you to want me to." Izzy gave him a small smile.

Andrew looked stricken at that. Before he could open his mouth to counter her, Izzy continued.

"But for now I'll stay. We're not completely broken, but things are definitely going to have to change."

"I think that's hardly avoidable at this point," her husband answered with a wry smile.

Izzy nodded, "We'll talk more in the morning."

With one last sad little smile, Andrew turned and headed toward the stairs bending to pick up her bag on his way down the hall.

After the sound of his cane on the stairs had receded and she was sure he was in the bedroom, Izzy let her head fall to her hands and began to cry.


	6. Whiskey and Memories

Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived home and found Belle alive in his dining room, looking just as fresh and beautiful as she had the day he'd raged against her and kicked her out of his castle. Fresh and beautiful and oh so alive. Her skin was warm beneath his palms and her lips even sweeter than he remembered from their first kiss so long ago.

He probably shouldn't have kissed her. He should have reigned himself in. He was acting strange enough already and Belle (Izzy) was bound to notice the difference even if he didn't go around snogging her at every available opportunity. Part of his plan to help the Savior break the curse depended on him seamlessly passing himself off as Mr. Gold. If Regina even began to suspect that he was awake, he'd have much bigger problems to worry about.

And he needed that curse broken now more than ever. Not only to find Bae, but also to give Belle her memories back. His sweet girl would probably leave and never look back once she remembered what he did to her. But at least she would be whole again.

His thoughts turned to a darker path at that. Regina was obviously behind this little ruse. He could just imagine her glee at spending the last 28 years dangling Belle right before his eyes without him realizing it. She'd told him Belle had died. He'd spent years consumed with grief and guilt for the girl he'd ruined, and all that time she'd been alive. That was another reason he needed the curse broken, he couldn't kill Regina until it was.

Dropping off Izzy's get away bag in the bedroom, he made his way down to his study. After pouring three fingers of Scotch, he collapsed into his leather armchair taking a swig of the 28-year-old vintage. His mind was swirling, reliving every ounce of pain of his 300 years all over again. He needed a drink just to dull his mind for one moment. As the Dark One, alcohol had little to no effect on him. But now he was pathetic and mortal once more, and getting absolutely pissed seemed like the best idea he'd had all day.

Belle was downstairs. His Belle, alive and well. It took all his willpower not to head down the stairs again just to look at her. It took all his willpower not to head across town and choke the life from Regina's body with his bare hands. He had to be careful. He couldn't trust himself when faced with his heart's desire that he never thought he'd see again. He had to remember that she wasn't Belle. She was Izzy Gold. They shared a face and some similarities, but they were not the same person. First and foremost, despite her reaction to his kiss, he didn't think Izzy would appreciate his advances. For Gods sake, her first action once time started moving again was to divorce him. She was planning on leaving him tonight before he came home looking like a lunatic. And even if she was accepting of him, she wasn't Belle. And he wouldn't touch Belle's body without her explicit consent. That was something he was never likely to have. Even after Emma broke the curse and everyone's memories were restored, Belle would probably never want to see him again. That would go double if she came to only to find he'd murdered the mayor in cold blood.

He sighed and leaned his head back, remembering the last time he'd looked in to Belle's stunning blue eyes.

My power means more to me than you.

No it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you. But I do, and I'll prove it to you.

His Belle, always so brave, looked him straight in the eye as she began to untie the laces of her blue work dress. She'd proven it to him all right, and he'd let her, greedy bastard that he is.

His hands gripping her hips, turning her to face the dungeon wall as he clawed at the fabric of her skirts. His black nails looking obscene against the pale perfection of her skin. He'd started out meaning to be rough, to teach her a lesson about the nature of monsters. But he couldn't. He couldn't hurt her. He'd shown himself to be a liar in the way he'd turned her around, laid her gently against the stone floor kissing her neck, her breasts, every part of her that he could reach except for her lips. He teased her entrance with his fingers until she was writhing on the ground, panting his name, her folds slick with her desire. And part of him thought this couldn't be a trick. She couldn't make her body respond this way if she didn't care for him. But he pushed that inner voice aside and instead eased himself into her, achingly slowly, letting her body adjust to him. When he reached her barrier that inner voice shouted loudly that this was wrong. She was a maiden. Surely she wouldn't offer him this, her most precious gift if she didn't truly love him. But he was too far-gone at that point. He plunged into her, taking everything she gave and when she cried out and shuddered beneath him with his name on her lips, he was almost sure it wasn't a trick.

He lay there for a moment after they were both spent, his body cooling in the cold dungeon air. And in that moment all his doubts came clamoring back up unbidden. There are ways to fake a maidenhead. If she was in league with Regina, they could have found a magical solution to that problem in their commitment to tricking him. She was sent there to take away his power, the only thing that could lead him to Baelfire. Even if she was telling the truth, for that reason alone she couldn't stay. She was too dangerous to his one and only goal. And most importantly, if she was telling the truth, if she really loved him, he had to let her go. Because if there's one thing Rumplestiltskin knows it's that he destroys everything he loves.

She is better off without him. And so he sent her on her way, and he smashed his castle to pieces after she was gone.

Gold has 28 years of memories of sharing Izzy's bed. None of it is real of course. Those memories are all constructs of the curse. Drawing on that single memory of a brave girl standing up to a monster in a dungeon and twisting it into a 100 different scenarios. And now a new torture begins. Living every day in the same house as Belle, sharing a bed with Belle, and never touching her. Because Izzy isn't Belle, and Belle should hate him.

Rumplestiltskin downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp before standing to make his way back to the bedroom. He can hear Belle – Izzy – moving around in the bathroom, so he changes into Mr. Gold's silk pajamas and slides between the sheets. He should go sleep on the couch, or in one of the many guest rooms. But Rumplestiltskin has never been a strong man. He cannot deny himself the chance to sleep beside his true love, to watch her face relax and know she is safe and whole. So he lays with his back to the bathroom door and his bedside lamp off, ever the coward. He won't get much sleep tonight, he knows.


	7. The Harsh Light of Day

Andrew is already asleep by the time Belle is ready for bed, lying with his back to her and the lamp off.

She lets out a weary sigh as she takes off her robe and slips between the cool sheets. For a moment there she thought things might be changing between them. She should know better. Nothing in Storybrooke ever seems to change. That's a funny thought. Maybe in order to change the world around her, she has to change. With that in mind, Izzy reaches a hand out to card through her husband's hair. She almost thinks she feels him shiver beneath her touch, but his breathing is slow and uninterrupted so she must have imagined it. She places a gentle kiss on his cheek anyway.

"Goodnight."

Izzy wakes the next morning to bright sunlight streaming through the blinds, and immediately realizes she is warmer than usual. Her husband's arm is slung around her waist, her back tight against his front as he slumbers, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.

Izzy can't remember ever waking up in her husband's arms, but it's a nice feeling. Unfortunately, nature calls and she doesn't want to wake up Andrew by dislodging his arm. Slowly she wriggled away trying to slip under his arm, but his hold tightened around her pulling her flush against his chest. Of course Andrew would choose the most inopportune time to become more affectionate. Letting out a small sigh, Izzy wriggled again only to realize her backside had come into contact with something hard and stiff poking her in the lower back. Stifling a gasp, Izzy tried to move herself away from her husband's erection.

"Stop wiggling, you'll just make it worse." Her husband said sleepily.

Glancing over her shoulder, Izzy thought she spied a slight grin on her husband's face.

"Well let me go and I'll stop wiggling."

"Nah. Don't want to. You have to say the magic word," his sleepy brogue muddling his words.

"If you don't let me go, I'm going to pee on you."

"Aye, that'll do it." Andrew said finally cracking an eye open to look at her.

Relinquishing her at long last, Izzy made a dash to the bathroom.

What had come over Andrew in the past 24 hours? He was acting like a completely different person. Perhaps the idea of his wife leaving him had triggered something in him. But no, he had been acting strangely prior to seeing her bag in the hallway. Izzy splashed cool water on her face before heading back to the bedroom. In truth she was eager to see where the morning could lead if she played along with her husband's strange mood.

Unfortunately Gold was gone from the bed by the time she finished in the washroom. She could hear the shower running from the hall bath.

Trying to stifle her disappointment, Izzy retreated back to the master bathroom to prepare for the day.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin vaguely wondered if it was possible to drown his pathetic, mortal body in the warm spray from the showerhead.

When he'd first awoken this morning with the feel of Belle pressed against him, he'd thought he was dreaming. It wouldn't have been the first time. In the lonely years after he'd forced her from the castle, he'd often dreamt of waking in a similar fashion.

Fuck. When he was the Dark One, Rumple had never had to worry about stupid mortal things like a weak ankle or accidently poking your true love – who doesn't remember she's your true love – in the back with your erection.

Rumple leaned his head against the cool tile wall. Izzy wanted to talk this morning. He had no idea what to say to her to explain his behavior. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to Belle. He'd had years to think that over, alone in his castle. He would tell her that she was right. That he was a coward, that he was sorry, and most of all that he loved her.

But he couldn't say all that to Izzy. She wouldn't know what he was talking about. And Andrew Gold had never once told Izzy that he loved her.

Rumplestiltskin felt a wave of revulsion for the man he'd been for the past 28 years. What kind of wanker has the love of a woman like Belle, and doesn't get down on his knees and worship her every single day.

Well the easy answer to that question is Rumplestiltskin himself. Hadn't he done the same thing?

Andrew Gold had done nothing worse than ignore Izzy for the duration of their relationship. What Rumplestiltskin had done was so much worse.

He could thank Regina for Gold's disinterest and the state of his marriage. All she knew of the institution was a disinterested, uncaring husband and an isolated wife. He doubted Regina could ever conjure the image of a happy marriage, and even if she could the curse bent to her will. No more happy endings.

Well he couldn't spend the entire day in the shower. Switching off the tap, Rumple dried himself off and dressed for the day.

Taking a look in the mirror for the first time since awakening was a bit of a shock. Staring back at him was a face he hadn't seen in close to three hundred years. He was just as thoroughly unimpressive as he remembered. Short and thin from years of malnutrition, shaggy greying brown hair, lines prematurely marring his face. He'd only been about forty when he took on the Dark One curse, but years of hard living had made him look older. The dark circles under his eyes from a restless night's sleep weren't helping matters.

Rumple had grown used to scales, reptilian eyes and ruined teeth, an outside image to match the darkness within. It was a façade developed to deter people, keep them on their guard and out of his way. And hadn't Belle just barreled through that carefully constructed image like a wrecking ball.

With a sigh, Rumple turned away from his reflection and headed down the stairs to start the day. Belle – Izzy – wasn't down yet, so he pulled a few eggs, mushrooms, cheese and peppers from the refrigerator and started on her breakfast.

The curse was designed to keep all under it from finding happiness, but by God if he couldn't make Belle an omelet.

* * *

By the time Izzy had made her way downstairs, dressed in a rose-colored skirt, navy blouse, and as always, smelling like lilacs, Rumple was just finishing up on the bacon.

"What's all this?" Izzy asked, not even trying to mask her confusion at seeing her husband donning an apron over his impeccable Dolce & Gabbana suit and dishing up a full breakfast for her.

"I was ready before you, it only seemed fair I make breakfast," he said with a slight smile. "There's tea in the pot if you'd like some."

Izzy edged her way to the teapot, pouring herself a cup while still looking warily at her husband.

"What happened to you last night, Andrew?"

Gold just shrugged, before setting two plates down on the kitchen island and gesturing for Izzy to sit and eat.

"Can't a man make breakfast for his wife without an interrogation?"

Izzy felt her irritation starting to rise.

"I'm not talking about just breakfast," Izzy said, spearing a forkful of egg. "When you came home last night you were a mess. You seemed surprised to see me, that I was alive. What happened?"

Gold sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "Sweetheart, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Excuse me? If you're in some kind of trouble, it definitely concerns me."

"Trouble?" Gold shook his head. "No darling, you're perfectly safe. It's just some personal business you needn't worry about."

That was the last straw. Izzy shoved her half eaten breakfast away angrily.

"You scared me half to death last night. You come home acting like a completely different person, there has to be a reason for that Andrew!" Izzy stood up from her stool at the island and backed away from her husband. "I said I'd stay and we could try to work this thing out, but how can we do that if you're keeping secrets from me?"

"Please, darling, you have to believe me when I say if I could tell you, I would." Gold said, advancing toward her with his hands up in supplication. "But for now, I just can't. You have to trust me."

Izzy's blue eyes flashed. "Trust you? You have to earn my trust, Gold." She spun on her heel, headed toward the foyer.

"Belle, please, wait!" he called, limping after her.

At that, Izzy rounded on him. "That's another thing. Who the fuck is Belle? You've never called me that before last night."

Gold just stood there silently, hand clenched around the gold handle of his cane, eyes wide and beseeching as if begging Izzy to understand. But she didn't understand. None of this made sense. His behavior in the past 24 hours had been unpredictable and frankly terrifying. Izzy had grown used to her cold, distant husband. She hadn't been happy, but at least she'd known firmly where their relationship stood. Now she just felt confused and angry.

"I'm walking to work today," Izzy said, trying to calm herself. "If you pull your head out of your ass, you know where to find me."

Grabbing her coat and purse, Izzy stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind her. She could have sworn she heard the sound of smashing china as she left.


	8. Secret Things

Hurling Izzy's breakfast plate across the kitchen had done little to improve Rumple's mood. In fact, now he was bent over cleaning egg up off the tile floor, ankle protesting, which contributed greatly to his foul mood.

Obviously this morning could have gone much better.

He could have made up some vague reason for his odd behavior. He could have blamed some work concern or another, or a near death experience. But somehow, flat out lying to Belle seemed to be a task of Herculean effort. He couldn't lie to her, and he couldn't tell her the truth. So instead he'd essentially told her not to worry her pretty little head. He should have known that would go over with Belle about as well as it did.

He scooped up the rest of the broken china and breakfast food and dumped it in the sink. He had a lot to do today, and he needed to get his head on straight. Regina would be in a right state with Henry's birth mother wandering around town, but he needed to see if she suspected anything more about Emma Swan. He was sure she'd work out the truth of the matter sooner or later, but things would be easier if her majesty was too distracted by the idea of losing her child to worry about the curse weakening.

He also needed to check in with Miss Swan herself. From the feel of her he'd gotten last night, she might take some work. The fact that she'd checked into Granny's instead of hightailing out of town was a good sign. Henry obviously had a hold on the woman. He just needed to find a way to get her to stay indefinitely.

These thoughts had him occupied on his way to the shop, so much so that he almost didn't notice the Savior herself barreling out of Granny's Diner across the street with young Henry in tow.

The boy was speaking animatedly as they crossed the street, but they were too far away for him to hear anything. Luckily they were moving toward him and Rumple was able to pick up parts of their conversation, as they got closer.

"So everyone here is a fairytale character, they just don't know it," the Savior said skeptically.

"That's the curse. Time's been frozen, until you got here."

Gold suppressed a smile. Henry Mills was an intuitive boy. Of course, he'd have to realize at some point that the town was a little strange. The poor child had been the only one to age at a normal speed. That combined with being the only child of an overbearing mother like Regina was bound to make him a little odd.

Mr. Gold had always had a soft spot for Henry without knowing why. Now Rumplestiltskin could see that the boy must have somehow subconsciously reminded him a bit of Bae. His hair was almost the exact same shade as Baelfire's, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners was very similar to his precious boy. Part of him had always felt guilty for procuring the adoption for Regina. The boy deserved a better home.

Following a bit behind the Savior and her son, Rumple's ears pricked up again.

"You're the only one who can stop the curse."

"Why? Because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?"

"Yes, and right now we have the advantage. My mom doesn't know that."

Gold smiled to himself again as he stopped outside his shop. In this case, what the queen didn't know could hurt her very much.

A little further down the street he could see an anxious Izzy pacing around outside the pharmacy. He itched to go to her, but knew he wouldn't be welcome at this time. Izzy needed her space for now, and he needed time to figure out how to deal with this situation. It was never something he imagined when he sat alone in his charming cell waiting for the curse to be enacted. Belle was a distraction – a welcome distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. If he had more faith in Regina's powers of foresight, he would think that she had planned for this. That she had placed Belle in this position to distract him in case he ever remembered their pasts. But Regina was not that subtle.

He would pay her a visit tonight after he closed the shop. He and Regina had some catching up to do.

* * *

Midmorning found a disgruntled Izzy slumped over her teacup in the back booth at Granny's. She'd spent the morning pacing around town in a funk, and finally stopped in for her usual cup of tea. She hadn't had time to finish her cup at home this morning before storming out, and the lack of caffeine in her system was making her irritable mood even worse. She couldn't even find it in herself to care that she hadn't opened the library that morning.

"Ok, sunshine. What's going on with you?"

Izzy looked up dazedly at the lanky brunette who had just slid into the booth across from her.

"Nothing. I'm absolutely fine."

A twist of Ruby's blood red lips told her she wasn't buying that for a second.

"First off, you're sitting in a booth, not at the bar talking my ear off like usual. Second, you haven't touched your tea. I know you don't function in the morning until you've had a cup, so that's odd. Third, it's 10:15. Shouldn't you be at the library?"

Izzy let out a long sigh. "Do you ever have one of those days where you question the reality of your entire existence?"

Ruby quirked a brow at her friend, "On a scale of one to senior prom after party, how drunk were you last night?"

The confusion must have shown in Izzy's face because Ruby followed up quickly.

"Oh, are you not hung over? I usually only ask questions like that when I'm hung over."

Izzy rolled her eyes at her friend.

"I'm not hung over. I'm just questioning my entire life's choices.

Ruby nodded. "If I were married to Gold, I'd do the same."

Izzy shook her head, staring down into her teacup. "Really not helping, Rubes."

Ruby shrugged her shoulders and started to scoot her way out of the booth.

"Fine. I can see when I'm not wanted. I guess you already know about our new arrival."

At that Izzy glanced up. "New arrival?"

"Gold didn't tell you? There' s a new girl in town. Her name's Emma. She's staying at the Inn." Ruby leaned forward on her elbows, grin spreading at the prospect of sharing some juicy gossip. "Word is she's the mayor's kid's birth mom. I wonder if she's here to take him back. She's only booked in the Inn for a week so I don't think she plans on sticking around."

"Why would Gold know all that?" Izzy asked confused.

"Oh he was at the Inn last night collecting when she came in. I figured he would have told you. It's not like we ever get new people in town.

The bell jingled as a few customers walked in, and Ruby left to wait on them.

So there was a newcomer in town. Could that be the reason for Gold's strange behavior? Izzy couldn't think why, unless the woman was somehow connected to her husband's past.

He'd always been very vague about his life before moving to Storybrooke. She knew he was originally from Glasgow, his accent alone a dead giveaway, but beyond that her husband was a mystery. He'd been in Storybrooke as far back as she could remember. Admittedly, that wasn't very far. Her memories tended to get a bit hazy the harder she focused on them. It was an uncomfortable feeling, like her experiences weren't quite her own and she was remembering something she'd seen in a film instead of her own life.

Maybe it was time to figure out what exactly had brought Andrew Gold to Storybrooke in the first place.

Her musings were interrupted by Ruby returning to her booth. She placed a basket of complimentary fries down in front of her friend.

"You look like you could use these," Ruby said with a smile. "Hey, want to come over for a girl's night tonight? I'm supposed to give Ashley a pedicure now that she can't see her own feet. I swear that girl is a walking advertisement for birth control."

"Sure. I'll be there. I've wanted to talk to Ashley anyway. She's been a little weird toward me lately."

Ruby rolled her eyes and stole a fry from Izzy's basket. "Hormones. She's being weird to everybody."

Izzy finished up her tea and most of the French fries before heading out the door of Granny's. But instead of continuing next door to finally open the library, she headed back home.

Izzy had never had the desire to snoop on her husband. It wasn't like she'd ever suspected him of having an affair, and she'd assumed the less she knew about his business pursuits, the happier she'd be.

So it was with slightly trembling hands that she opened the door to his study. She rarely came in this room, and had never been in here without Andrew.

His desk was covered in paperwork, mostly what looked like contracts and renter's agreements. Opening the top drawer of the desk, she found a framed photo from their wedding. It was taken in front of the courthouse, directly following the brief ceremony. Gold was wearing his typical dark suit and had one arm lightly clasped around Izzy's waist. Izzy herself was wearing a simple white dress, and instead of looking at the camera, was staring up at her new husband. She didn't look happy, per say, but she looked hopeful.

Stuffing the photo back in the drawer, Izzy continued rifling through the other drawers. There was nothing much of interest. She found a bottle of prescription pain pills she didn't know her husband used. She wondered how much his ankle bothered him. He'd never let on that it did.

After his desk failed to turn up anything noteworthy, Izzy turned her attention to the rest of the room. There was an unusual painting of a spinning wheel on the far wall that Izzy had never paid much attention to. Perhaps she'd seen too many spy movies, or maybe it was the unusual placement of the painting, but she slipped forward and moved the artwork away from the wall.

Izzy gasped when the painting swung outward to reveal a safe. She didn't know they even had a safe in the house. She thought her husband kept everything of value at his safe in the shop.

Izzy had no idea what the combination might be, and suddenly wondered if she really wanted to know what was inside the hidden safe of her secretive husband. What if she didn't like what she found inside? What if whatever was inside forced her to make a painful decision. Her overnight bag was still packed, sitting on the floor of their bedroom. What if the contents of the safe would seal her decision to leave?

Izzy shook off her doubts. Whatever was going on with her husband, she wanted to know what it was. Trembling fingers reached up to the keypad. She punched in her birthday on the off chance it was the same code as the shop. The word DENIED popped up in red digital letters. Sighing, Izzy thought of the wedding photo in Andrew's desk drawer. She punched in their wedding date.

The word GRANTED scrolled by in green accompanied by a triumphant little beep. Then the door of the safe was swinging open.

Izzy wasn't sure what she expected to find inside. Evidence of a political conspiracy? Stolen jewels? A sled called Rosebud?

In truth there was very little in the safe, only a small velvet bag, a long black case, a bundle of homespun and a folded piece of paper.

Pulling out the velvet bag first, Izzy opened it to find a single teacup. White with an abstract blue flower on the side, it didn't match any of the sets downstairs. It also had a chip missing from the rim. Running her fingers over the small indentation, Izzy felt something tug at the back of her mind, as though she'd seen this cup before. As though it was somehow important. But the feeling was fleeting and was gone before she could fully explore it. Setting the cup down she moved on to the next object.

She pulled out the bundle of homespun fabric, unrolling it to see if anything was wrapped inside it. But it appeared to be just fabric, perhaps it had once been a shawl of some sort. It was rough and seemed very old. Hardly the type of treasure one would keep in a hidden safe. But then again, neither was a damaged teacup. Her husband had a strange idea of what was precious.

Pulling the long black case from the safe, Izzy expected to find something of value inside, like jewelry. Instead, flipping back the lid revealed a long dagger. It looked a bit like a ceremonial weapon with its wavy blade and strange markings. Izzy figured it might be an antique. Running a finger over the blade she felt a sudden jolt down to her toes. Shutting the lid quickly she returned the case to the safe. There was something about the dagger that gave her a bad feeling, and she didn't want to hold onto it any longer.

The final content of the safe was a single piece of parchment folded in half. Pulling it forward, Izzy unfolded it to reveal a single name.

Emma

The name covered the parchment in looping script, over and over again.

Gasping, Izzy stuffed the parchment back into the safe and shut the door. She left her husband's study and ran down the stairs and out the front door, breathing in the autumn air outside.

The stranger in town, her name was Emma. Izzy knew she had just found the source of her husband's odd behavior. Now she just needed to know why.


	9. Chipped

Rumplestiltskin had found precious few things to cause him joy in the past three decades, but watching her majesty stooped over picking up the tattered remains of her favorite apple tree ranked high on that list.

"What a mess," he observed, masking his amusement.

"Not for long," Regina replied, confidently. "What can I do for you, Mr. Gold?"

Well there was a loaded question. She could start by dropping dead, but Mr. Gold would hardly say such a thing.

"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd pop by," he said, bypassing the Queen to survey the damage to her apple tree. "Lovely to see you in such high spirits. I only hope it'll last."

Regina narrowed her eyes at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rumple shrugged nonchalantly. "There's always some new crisis to be had in this town. Emma Swan certainly seems to be shaking things up nicely."

Regina turned to look at him. "Well luckily I just rid the town of that unwanted nuisance."

Rumple arched an eyebrow at her, "Really?"

"Yes," the Queen replied with a satisfied smirk. "I imagine she's halfway to Boston by now."

Plucking one of Regina's remaining apples, Rumple let out a chuckle. "I wouldn't bet on that."

He relished her confused expression for a moment before continuing.

"I just saw her strolling down the main street with your boy. Thick as thieves they looked.

Rumple smiled at the shocked look on Regina's face. Oh he greatly enjoyed pulling one over on the Evil Queen. He'd given a lot of thought to what he would say to Regina now that he remembered their pasts. He had to play this just right. If Regina knew he remembered, he had no doubt she would retaliate. And now, Rumple had something very precious to lose. He would take no chances with Belle's safety.

At the same time, he needed Regina to play the part he had designed for her. In order for that to happen, she had to trust him. Well, maybe not trust him, but she had to believe he was working in her best interest. That had long been a fatal flaw for Regina. Rumplestiltskin had only worked in the best interest of one person in all his three hundred years, and it certainly wasn't Regina.

"Perhaps you should have come to me." Rumple said smugly. "If Miss Swan is a problem you can't fix, I'm only too happy to help. For a price, of course."

"I'm not in the business of making deals with you anymore."

Rumplestiltskin bristled. She'd been only too happy to deal with him in the past. God only knew what she had done with Belle in the intervening years between her leaving the Dark Castle and when Regina cast the curse. She'd probably kept his True Love locked away somewhere like some kind of bargaining chip.

Tamping down the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of Belle's suffering, Rumple couldn't help but needle Regina a bit.

"To which deal are you referring?"

Regina eyed him speculatively. "You know what deal."

Was that a note of panic he detected in Regina's voice? He well remembered their real last deal. All he had to do was say "please" and the Queen would be at his command. He could ask her ever so politely to drown herself in the ocean, or walk out in traffic. Unfortunately, Regina's death would seal the curse. He needed her alive in order for it to be broken, so for now she was safe from his wrath.

"Oh right, the boy I procured for you." Rumple replied, as though it were only just occurring to him. "Henry. Did I ever tell you what a lovely name that was? However did you pick it?"

He couldn't help but throw out the little dig at her father. The way Regina's face paled was well worth it. To think he'd once been envious of the spineless prince. Now he felt nothing but pity for the man. He'd been subjected to a lifetime with Cora only to be murdered by his only child. What kind of monster would kill their own flesh and blood? For all Prince Henry's faults, he'd been a good father.

"Did you want her to come to town?" The Queen asked, the panic rising in her voice. "You wanted all this to happen, didn't you? Your finding Henry wasn't an accident, was it?"

Rumple tried his best to look innocent. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Do you know something?"

"I've no idea what you're implying." He replied with a smirk. Regina was getting paranoid. He could only hope her paranoia would lead to carelessness. She would slip up soon, and he'd be there to take advantage.

"Who is this woman?" Regina demanded. "This Emma Swan."

"Well dear, I would say you think you know exactly who she is," Rumple said as he turned to leave. "I really must be going. The wife worries."

"Tell me what you know about her!" Regina demanded cutting him off before he could exit the yard.

"I'm not going to answer you, dear." Rumple answered menacingly. He was tired of this game. He wanted to go home and keep an eye on Belle. He wanted to plan his next move, and work toward getting back to Baelfire. There were so many more important things to do than bicker with Regina. "I suggest that you excuse me. Please."

If it was possible, Regina's face grew even paler. He'd give himself a point for this round.

Gold stalked away, his blood boiling. It had taken everything in him not to ring Regina's royal neck. But if he could cause her even one ounce of discomfort, he considered tonight a victory. He might not be able to kill Regina, but Rumple had always played with subtle weapons, and his former protégé was always easy to manipulate. He could make Regina wish she'd never been born.

* * *

Izzy rifled through the selection of garishly bright nail polish Ruby had collected in a basket, not really processing the colors. Her mind was much too occupied by what she'd found in Andrew's study that afternoon. She'd eventually opened the library, only about 6 hours late, left work at the usual time, and come straight to the Inn.

Now she found herself lying across the bed in one of the vacant rooms of Granny's Bed and Breakfast, sipping idly at an overly fruity alcoholic beverage, and trying to pay attention to Ashley Boyd's endless stream of pregnancy complaints.

Ruby was bent over applying a bright Barbie pink polish to Ashley swollen toes.

"And not being able to see my feet isn't even the worst part!" Ashley was saying. "I literally have to pee every five minutes. And I walk so slowly, that as soon as I get back from the bathroom, I have to go again."

Ruby grimaced and pulled back from her task to take a long sip of her daiquiri.

"Pregnancy sounds terrible, Ash."

"You have no idea," Ashley said with a sigh, taking a sip of her own virgin daiquiri. "Safe sex, girls. It's the way to go."

"Well at least the ends justify the means, right?" Izzy chimed in, feeling like she should add something to the conversation. "At the end of this you'll have a sweet little baby to call your own."

Ashley almost choked on her drink, causing Ruby to miss her toenail completely and leave a long swipe of pink paint across her foot.

"Shit! Hold on a second, let me go get the polish remover."

Ruby sprang to her feet and out to the hall bathroom leaving Izzy alone with Ashley for the first time that evening.

"Yeah," Ashley replied, trying to see the damage to her foot around her swollen belly. "There's that silver lining."

"You don't sound so sure." Izzy said, plucking a bottle of maroon colored polish from the basket and testing the color against the skin of her hand.

Ashley stared down at her hands.

"No one thinks I can do it. I don't even think I can do it." She said with a sigh. "I'm nineteen, single, I can barely support myself on a minimum wage job. There are a million reasons I shouldn't keep this baby."

Izzy looked up at her surprised.

"Are you thinking of giving it up?"

Ashley seemed suddenly cold and closed off.

"I figured you of all people would know my…situation."

Izzy was confused by Ashley's change of tone.

"I don't know what's going on, but you have to do what's right for your child." Izzy said, trying to smooth out the awkward lull in the conversation. "If you think you can give the child it's best chance, then you should keep him. You'll find a way to make it work."

Ashley eyed her speculatively.

"I wonder if your husband would agree with that."

Izzy's brow furrowed.

"What does Gold have to do with this?"

Ashley let out a mirthless laugh. "Maybe you should ask your husband more questions about his so-called deals."

"Found it!" Ruby called as she returned to the bedroom. "What did I miss?" she asked, oblivious to the obvious tension in the room.

"Nothing," Ashley answered immediately. "Just pregnancy stuff."

"Oh God," Ruby said as she sat back at Ashley's feet, applying remover to a cotton ball and brushing over the errant paint. "Please tell me you're not getting baby fever too, Iz. I can't have another friend abandoning me for motherhood!"

Izzy sputtered on her daiquiri. "Absolutely not. No plans on that front."

Last time Izzy checked, it took more than an admittedly fabulous kiss to conceive a child. This morning had seemed promising. At least she knew she still had some effect on a certain part of her husband's anatomy. But alas it had come to nothing.

It was just as well. There were far too many things she and Andrew had to sort out before they should even consider being intimate again. Why had he pulled away from their marriage in the first place? She thought he'd been disinterested, but the events of the last two days seemed to have shown otherwise. What was his connection to the mysterious Emma Swan? And now she could add the question of what deal he seemed to have made with Ashley Boyd.

"Is Emma Swan still staying here?" Izzy asked on impulse, ignoring the suspicious looks Ashley was shooting at her.

"Oh!" Ruby said excitedly. "Did I not tell you? We had to kick her out! Some bullshit city ordinance about not housing felons at the Inn. I think the Mayor made it all up."

"Felons?" Ashley asked. "What did she do?"

"Apparently she broke in to Dr. Hopper's office and stole some files. According to the Mayor she's a conman looking to swindle people." Ruby shrugged her shoulders at that. "I think the Mayor is full of shit. I like Emma."

"What do you know about her?" Izzy asked, hoping she sounded casual.

"Not much," Ruby said, finishing up Ashley's toes and returning to her drink. "Late 20s, visiting from Boston, gave up Henry for adoption when she was 17. According to that article in the paper today she had him in prison, but I take everything Sidney writes with a grain of salt."

Talk turned back to Ashley's personal problems after that. Sean still wasn't speaking to her, and Ruby went off on a long tirade against men spurred on by the fact that Dr. Whale had failed to ask her out again even though he blatantly stared at her ass whenever he was in the diner.

Izzy excused herself a little while later and started the short walk back home. There was so much she didn't know about her husband. Was Emma one of his former deals, like Ashley seemed to be? Did he have something to do with Henry's adoption?

One way to get answers would be to ask Andrew himself. But that thought made Izzy's stomach do backflips. They'd left things on a sour note that morning, and the idea of another confrontation with her husband left her feeling sick.

Izzy took her time, taking the long route home. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

Rumple trudged up the steps to the pink house Mr. Gold called home. It wasn't quite the Dark Castle, but it was comfortable enough. He still wasn't sure what to say to Izzy. Now that he had played his first hand against Regina, it was more imperative than ever that she be protected. The less Belle knew of the truth, the better.

Dropping his keys off in the bowl by the door and shrugging out of his coat, Rumple noticed that the house was almost eerily quiet. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, as Izzy would usually be finishing up dinner at this time of day. But there was no sign of his wife there. Everything was as he had left it this morning, including the broken breakfast plate still sitting in the sink.

"Isobel?" he called, trying to quell the panic that rose in his chest. He had just left Regina's. There was no way the queen could have gotten to his house and made off with Belle before he arrived home.

Maybe she had lost herself in a good book. That was something Izzy and Belle had in common. If Rumplestiltskin ever couldn't find his little caretaker, chances were she was holed up in the library at the Dark Castle, her nose buried in a book with no regard to the time. Her chores tended to go undone after he had gifted her with the library. Lucky for her he was already half in love with her at the time. The Dark One never would have allowed any other servant to get away with shirking their duties.

Making his way upstairs, something caught Rumple's eye at the door to his office. The painting that masked the safe in his study was hanging off the wall at an angle.

With a jolt of fear Rumple rushed to the safe, punching in the combination and swinging open the door. His dagger had no power over him in this land without magic, but it was still a powerful magical artifact that should not end up in the wrong hands. He shuddered to think what Regina would do if she ever had her hands on the source of his power.

Flipping open the long black case, Rumple breathed a sigh of relief as he ran his fingers over the curved edge of the dagger. Someone had been here, but they hadn't taken anything. Replacing the dagger, he reached for the crushed velvet bag that held his greatest treasure. He pulled Belle's chipped cup from the bag with careful hands.

It's chipped. You can hardly see it.

It's just a cup.

With a sigh Rumple held the cup up for inspection. It seemed no worse for the wear. Pressing the cool bone china against his cheek he breathed a ragged sigh.

He retreated to his leather armchair with his heart still hammering, cup in hand. It was a memory from another life, one that seemed so far removed from the pleasant study he now found himself in. Belle had no memory of this cup or her love for him. She had no idea of the heroic sacrifice she had made to save her people.

He supposed he should be more worried about who might have found his safe. But he was just so tired. Chances are Izzy was snooping around.

That fact should probably worry him more as well.

Leaving the chipped cup on the corner of his desk, he made his way down to the library only to find it deserted. Heart sinking in his chest he crossed the hall and opened the bedroom door.

Suddenly remembering the technology of this new land, Rumple pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and punched in Izzy's number. It rang twice before going to voicemail, her sweet voice telling him to leave a message at the beep. He shut off the phone before her message ended. Mr. Gold had never gotten the hang of texting, and Rumplestiltskin was even less inclined to try.

That's when he noticed it. He had placed her overnight bag on the floor next to the bed last night. It was missing now, the empty patch of floor mocking him.

He sunk against the doorframe with a ragged sigh. It was like all the air had finally been sucked from him. His confrontation with Regina, his fight with Izzy this morning, the sheer amount of similarities between Henry and Bae. It had all sapped so much strength from him, and he was just so tired.

He knew it had been too good to be true when Izzy had decided to stay last night. Belle had finally left him, for good this time.

Rumple limped back to his study, pouring himself a glass of scotch and flopping into his armchair. Grabbing the chipped cup from his desk, he stroked a long finger along the damaged rim.

Tears sprang to his eyes as his shriveled black heart twisted in his chest.

He was alone again, with nothing but a broken heart and a chipped cup.


	10. Answers

**Author's Note: Thanks so much for the comments and favorites! Feedback is greatly appreciated!**

**Warning: this chapter contains some pre-smut. If that's not your thing, turn back now!**

* * *

Izzy finally made her way home as it started to rain, a sudden downpour that caught her completely off guard. The night was unseasonably warm so she'd forgone a jacket, a fact she was cursing now as she ran up the drive to her house. By the time she let herself into the entry hall she was thoroughly soaked, dark curls dripping down her back and her blouse sticking to her skin.

Kicking off her heels by the front door, she made her way upstairs to get changed.

Passing by Andrew's study on the way to the bedroom, she was surprised to see the door wide open. Typically when her husband holed himself up to work at night he closed the door behind him, a surefire way to notify Izzy that her presence was not needed or welcome.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Izzy poked her head in only to be startled by what she saw. Her husband was sitting in his armchair surrounded by what looked to be every paper, contract and agreement that had been stacked on his desk. It also looked as though he'd taken a whack at the glass front cabinet against the wall with his cane if the glittering shards of glass littering the floor were any indication.

Andrew looked up at her, eyes slightly bloodshot, the whiskey glass in his hand a clear indicator of how he'd spent his evening. He'd removed his tie, jacket and waistcoat and they lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. She'd never seen him in such a state before. He looked even more distraught than he had the night before.

"I thought you'd left," he said, sitting up with surprise. "I thought you'd gone."

This was his reaction to her leaving? Smashing furniture, tearing up paperwork and drinking what looked to be half a bottle of his best scotch? A few days ago when Izzy was planning her escape from her marriage, she couldn't imagine her husband having any reaction at all, much less this. Where had this man been the past three years as their relationship grew colder and colder?

"I was having a girls night with Ruby and Ashley," she replied, picking her way across the room towards her husband, not wanting to step on any errant pieces of glass in her bare feet.

"When I got home, you weren't here, and your bag was gone. I just assumed…" his hands reached out for her, but then fluttered back to his sides as if he didn't know what to do with them.

Izzy shook her head, "I unpacked it. I told you I wasn't going anywhere."

Andrew nodded his head with an unreadable expression, and took another sip of his scotch. She noticed he was holding the chipped cup from his safe in one hand.

Coming around to his side, she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of his desk, plucking at her damp skirt to keep it from clinging to her legs. She reached out and took the glass from his hand, swirling the amber liquid around before downing the contents in one gulp.

The scotch burned down the back of her throat and settled warmly in her belly. It was the last bit of liquid courage she needed. Andrew was obviously well on his way to drunk, but he still had command of his faculties. This may be her best chance to get answers from him. She didn't know if he'd ever be this pliable again.

Andrew watched her drink his scotch, mouth slightly agape. Izzy had never been much of a drinker, but tonight seemed as good a time as any to start.

She handed the empty glass back to him.

"Another?" he asked.

Izzy nodded, and Andrew stood, not without difficulty, and shuffled his way over to the sideboard to retrieve a bottle and a second glass. He poured them each a healthy measure before returning to his seat.

Izzy took a small sip of the drink, pacing herself, and placed it down on the desk next to her hip.

"Are you ready to start being honest with me?"

Andrew stared down at the teacup in his hand, not answering her.

"Why don't we make a deal? You're fond of those."

That made him meet her eye at last.

"Why are you wet?" he asked, as though seeing her for the first time, his eyes skimming down the length of her form as she dripped water on the empty surface of his desk.

"Rainstorm." Izzy answered succinctly. "Don't try to distract me."

"I wasn't," he said petulantly.

"Okay," Izzy continued. "So about this deal. It's more a compromise really. You answer my questions as long as the answer won't jeopardize one or both of our safety. I know you're the type of man who's in the business of keeping secrets for half the town, and I respect that."

Andrew nodded. "I can do that."

"As for my end of the deal, I'll stay and hear you out no matter what it is you have to tell me. Even if it's upsetting, I promise I won't leave."

Andrew nodded again and then gestured to her with his half empty glass. "Ask your questions, my lady."

"Why were you so upset when you came home last night?"

Andrew took a deep breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer her.

"I had a rather shocking blast from the past."

"In what form?" Izzy asked, taking a sip of her drink and steeling herself for his answer.

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, darling. I was forced to confront a few that I hadn't thought about in some time last night."

"Like what?"

Andrew shrugged. "At various points in my life I have hurt or let down every person I've ever loved, and there haven't been many."

Izzy wondered if he counted her among those ranks, but she couldn't find the courage to ask.

"You're being very vague about all this."

"You gave me a condition," Andrew said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm protecting you."

"From what?"

"Me," he answered with a grimace. "You married a monster, sweetheart. My secrets are buried for a reason."

Izzy shook her head. "You're not a monster."

Andrew's head snapped up at that, his brown eyes piercing her. For a moment he looked so sad she thought her heart might burst for him, but a second later he blinked at it was gone.

Deciding she was unlikely to get anywhere with that chain of questioning, Izzy changed her tactic.

"I had an interesting conversation with Ashley Boyd tonight."

"Well I find that hard to believe," Andrew said with a sardonic twist to his mouth.

Izzy continued as though she hadn't heard him.

"She wouldn't tell me the particulars, but she implied she'd made a deal with you. Andrew, what did you do?"

"I made a deal," Andrew said, spreading his arms wide, alcohol sloshing out of his glass and on to the plush carpet of his study. "Miss Boyd will be handsomely compensated, and in return I'll find her child a suitable home."

It was exactly as Izzy had feared. "You bought her child?" she asked in disgust.

"I didn't buy the child," Andrew said, his eyes pleading. "I was approached by a terrified, unmarried teenage girl who asked for my help. What would you have done?"

"I would let a mother keep her child!" Izzy said, voice rising.

"Would you?" Andrew asked standing suddenly. "Leave that child with a mother who was willing to give up their own baby for a bit of money? Children are life's most precious gift, dear. They must be protected at any cost!"

Something in Andrew's tone made it seem as though he was speaking from experience. There was so much she didn't know about her husband; so much he kept hidden from her.

"How would you know? You don't have any children."

Gold kept his eyes downcast and let out a weary sigh.

"No, I don't."

Somehow she didn't quite believe him, but Izzy new better than to press him.

"This isn't the first adoption you've brokered, is it?" she asked, the pieces coming together in her mind.

"No. I procured Henry for the Mayor."

It was just as Izzy thought. Now was the time to bring up the question that had been haunting her all day.

"From Emma Swan?"

Andrew looked down at her, brow furrowed. "She's the boy's birth mother, though I'd never met her before yesterday. Henry's adoption was done through strictly legal channels."

It was Izzy's turn to be confused.

"You don't know her?"

"As I said, I'd never met her before bumping in to her on my rounds yesterday."

"I – I thought…" Izzy stuttered trying to gather her thoughts. "I thought she was the blast from your past. I thought she was the impetus for your behavior the past two days."

"What? Did you think I was Henry's father?" Andrew said jokingly, though his smile slipped at the look on Izzy's face.

"Well, he does have your eyes."

"Does he?" Andrew laughed. "I'll have to point out the resemblance to Madame Mayor. But despite my cradle robbing tendencies, a seventeen year old girl is a bit much, even for me."

"I didn't think - " Izzy felt suddenly foolish. Had all her worrying since last night been for nothing? Now that the feeling had passed she could tell it for what it was. Jealousy. She'd been so concerned with Emma because she'd been jealous, that Andrew somehow had a past with this woman. That he only started paying attention to her again because he'd been reminded of something he'd lost.

There was still the issue of the parchment in his safe, but she could hardly ask him about that without owning up to snooping.

But then a flash of white caught her eye. Andrew was still holding that blasted cup.

"What's with the cup?"

Andrew glanced down at it, as though he'd forgotten he still held it.

"It's a memento," he said sadly. "A reminder of one of those people I let down."

"Someone you loved?" Izzy asked, feeling the gnawing feeling of jealousy once more. "What happened to them?"

"She died," Andrew said, after a moment. He placed the cup on the shelf behind his desk and walked back over to her. "It's a silly thing really."

Izzy shook her head. "She was a lucky woman to be so loved by you."

Andrew looked at a loss for words at that.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said reaching a hand out to cup her cheek.

"You're freezing," he said suddenly as he drew his hand down the length of her arm.

"I got caught in the rain."

He stepped closer to her, the fabric of his soft wool trousers tickling her knees.

She shivered, more from the feel of his warm breath against her cheek and the heat of his body, so close to hers, than from the inclement weather.

He rubbed his palms up and down her chilly arms, working the warmth back into them.

"I'm sorry I have so many secrets."

"I knew that about you when I married you," Izzy said with a shrug. "Three years of working in your shop had taught me that much. I'm sorry I scared you. I should have called or left a note saying where I was."

Andrew leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips were so warm against her chilled skin, and Izzy found herself leaning into his warmth.

"A life riddled with disappointment has left me always expecting the worst," he said. "I won't jump to such conclusions again."

Izzy soon found herself enveloped in her husband's arms, his hands moving from her arms around to stroke her back. Izzy breathed in the scent of expensive cologne and expensive scotch and something else, earthy and wild and completely her husband. Their faces were mere inches from each other. If she shifted forward just a bit, she could kiss him. And God how she wanted to.

Ignoring the voice in the back of her head screaming for more answers, Izzy closed the gap between them, brushing her lips lightly against his.

Andrew hesitated only a moment before returning the kiss eagerly, his lips warm against hers. His hands fell to her hips pulling her towards him along the surface of the desk. Her legs fell open, allowing him to stand between them, and she pulled at his shoulders trying to get as close to him as possible.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Andrew deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue against hers. And oh how she loved the taste of him, the smooth flavor of the scotch even better on his lips.

Izzy let out a pathetic whimpering noise when he broke away from her, but it quickly turned to a moan as he trailed hot, wet kisses down the column of her throat. She arched her neck, giving him better access as he moved downward across her exposed collarbone.

One hand left its grasp on her waist to reach up and cup her breast through the damp fabric of her shirt. Izzy arched her body into his touch, letting out breathy little sighs as his nimble fingers caressed her.

And then his mouth was on hers again, kissing her hungrily until there was no thought left in her head. Izzy was vaguely aware of his hands coming to her front, fingering the buttons on her blouse. Suddenly, Andrew pulled away again, a question in his eyes before he looked down at his hands on her shirt.

He was asking permission, she realized. As if he hadn't undressed her before. As if he'd never seen her naked before.

Izzy nodded her assent before gripping him by the hair and pulling him back in for another searing kiss.

Andrew went to work on her buttons, and soon he was pushing the blouse from her shoulders, hands skimming across the bare skin of her stomach before reaching up to cup her breasts again through the delicate lace of her bra.

Izzy had the sudden desire to feel skin against skin and started tearing at the buttons of his shirt, glad he'd already divested himself of his outer layers. A moment later she had his shirt open, rubbing her hands against the smooth contours of his chest. She'd always appreciated her husband's slender physique. Her only high school boyfriend, Gary, had been a hulking gorilla of a man. Being so petite herself, Izzy thought being intimate with someone that size would have made her feel like a ragdoll. But Andrew was perfect for her, as if they were made to fit together.

Needing to feel all of him against her, Izzy arched her back and pressed her chest against his, his body warming hers and the feel of his racing heart beat thrumming through her.

Izzy gasped as he rocked his hips against her, the proof of his desire evident as his hard length rubbed against her core sending electric sparks throughout her body.

Breaking their kiss, Izzy wasn't sure how much more she could take, as she leaned back against the heavy mahogany desk. Andrew dragged open-mouthed kisses down between her breasts and across her stomach until he reached the waistband of her skirt.

Izzy reached down to unzip and shimmy out of her skirt, Andrew pulling it the rest of the way off. And then her husband was staring down at her like he'd never seen her before, hands trembling as he reached out to brush his fingers against the pale skin of her thighs.

"So, so beautiful," he said, almost reverently. He had the same look in his eye that he'd had the night before when he'd kissed her. As though he could hardly believe she was real. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking along her cheekbone. "Sweetheart, you are a work of art."

Izzy could feel herself blushing at his compliment. She'd always known her husband desired her, but he'd never been effusive in his praise. For the first time in her life, Izzy truly felt wanted. And she wanted so badly in return.

She'd reached the end of her patience. Izzy felt more wound up than she ever had in her life, and they'd done nothing beyond kissing and caressing.

Wrapping her legs around her husband's waist, she ground her hips against his. Andrew let out a shuddering groan that went straight to her core, and Izzy wanted nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. Sitting up slightly, she reached for his belt, undoing the buckle swiftly and then cupping him through the fabric of his trousers.

Andrew bucked against her hand with another delicious groan. Squeezing his cock, Izzy urged him forward with her feet against the small of his back.

"Please…" she only just managed to get the word out. "Andrew, please."

All of a sudden her husband stiffened under her touch. He gently pulled her hands away from him, holding her wrists in one hand. His breath was coming out in labored gasps. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"I can't do this, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

"What?" Izzy asked confused. "What are you talking about, of course you can."

The very obvious bulge tenting his trousers told her he was more than capable.

"Is it your ankle?" She asked, remembering the bottle of pain medication she'd found in his desk earlier. This position couldn't be easy on him.

"Damn, my ankle!" he muttered under his breath.

"I know it's been a while," she said, reaching for him once more. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Gold shook his head, prying her legs from around his waist and stepping away from her.

"On my desk?" he asked her incredulously.

Izzy shrugged, trying not to let his rejection sting too badly. "Why not?"

"You deserve better, darling."

Izzy wasn't quite sure if he was talking about the manner of their coupling or himself in general.

"Okay," she agreed. "Lets go to the bedroom."

Andrew shut his eyes with a groan and leaned against the offending desk. Izzy hopped off the desk and moved to stand by his side.

"I know you want me," she said, trailing one hand down his stomach, feeling his taut muscles bunch and jump beneath her touch. "So come get me," she whispered against his ear.

Spinning on her heel, Izzy sauntered out of the room. Only pausing in the doorway to glance over her shoulder.

"Well? Aren't you coming?"


	11. Abandon

**This chapter is pure smut. Please, enjoy. :)**

**As always, feedback is much appreciated! **

* * *

Rumplestiltskin groaned as he leaned against the desk, willing himself to calm down.

He'd been half hard just at the sight of her in a wet blouse. Seeing Belle in nothing but her underwear had been almost enough to finish him off. It was the most he'd ever seen of his Beauty. The one time they'd been together, they'd only uncovered enough of themselves as was necessary.

He'd allowed himself, for just a moment, to pretend that he was Andrew Gold, and she was Izzy. There was no long complicated history between them, they were simply an average married couple, the biggest secrets between them a hidden bank account or an undisclosed debt. But they were not Izzy and Andrew. They were Rumplestiltskin and Belle, and the secrets between them were curses and magic and death.

Hearing her gasp out his cursed name had been enough to return him to himself. He was trying oh so hard to rationalize his way out of this situation.

Izzy wanted him, if he turned her down she'd be hurt. The tenuous peace they seemed to have established would be upset. If she left him, it would be harder to protect her from Regina. At the same time, Izzy wasn't Belle. He couldn't take advantage of his true love's body when she wasn't herself.

He'd had far too much to drink to be thinking about this.

It had taken every ounce of his willpower to pull away from her. If he was faced with her again, he didn't know if he could hold out. Rumplestiltskin cursed his weak human body once again. He'd been back to himself for merely two days and he already couldn't keep his cock to himself.

He pushed away from the desk with another groan. Grabbing his cane, he limped out to the hallway, his steps even more labored than usual due to his painfully hard erection.

He'd made up his mind. He would go to the bedroom and let Izzy down easy. She'd mentioned his ankle. As much as he hated to show weakness there, he could blame physical pain and an inability to perform. He could soften the blow with kisses. He could certainly take care of her without finding his own pleasure. He'd find a way to satisfy her without taking anything for himself. And then he'd retreat to the shower and take care of the problem in his pants.

It was as solid a plan he could think of under the circumstances, but as he entered the bedroom, all rational thought flew out of his head.

Izzy did not play fair.

It had been hard enough seeing Belle in nothing but her knickers. Now she was spread out across their bed completely, deliciously naked. Rumplestiltskin took in her entire form for the first time, from her dark chestnut curls spread out across the pillows, to her small pert breasts, their rosy peaks hardening under his gaze, down the length of her long pale legs. His eyes lingered between her legs, breath catching at the sight of her sex completely bare. Women in this land had far different grooming habits than the Enchanted Forest.

His cock gave an unforgivable twitch. Well, he was going to hell anyway, why not truly damn himself?

Izzy reached a hand out toward him. "Come here," she said with a coy smile.

And he did. Like a man possessed he stumbled forward, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Izzy sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck as he shucked off his shoes and socks. He could feel her soft curves molding against his back. Then she was pulling him around to face her, taking his face between her palms and stroking the stubble across his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

She kissed him sweetly then, without the consuming fire they had felt in his study a moment ago. It reminded him of another kiss so long ago. The kiss that began everything, and he thought ended it as well. But it hadn't. He'd been gifted with a second chance with Belle, and why shouldn't he take it? He had done wrong by her in the past. It was time to fix that. True Love could break any curse, and that's what they had once upon a time. If he made her love him, truly love him as she had before, maybe her memories would return without the Savior breaking the curse.

Maybe she would still want him, even after all this time and all the mistakes he'd made. They could work together to break the curse and find Baelfire. It was a pipe dream, but one that made his entire chest warm.

With that in mind, Rumple deepened the kiss, rolling Izzy onto her back and settling between her legs. His hands skimmed up and down the length of her body, trying to memorize every detail he'd ever taken for granted.

Izzy sighed as he trailed kisses down her throat and across her chest, taking one hardened peak into his mouth and suckling. He nipped her flesh gently and Izzy squealed, burying her hands in his hair to hold him to her as he started to pull away.

"Do it again," she said breathlessly.

Rumple dragged his teeth across her hardened nipple once again, laving it with his tongue when he was finished. His hand came up to cup her other breast, his fingers kneading her flesh and plucking her nipple as Izzy squirmed beneath him.

When he was done thoroughly worshipping her breasts, he continued down the length of her body, kissing across the flat planes of her stomach until he reached his ultimate destination, breathing in the heady sent of her arousal.

His body was painfully aware that it hadn't felt the warmth of a woman in over thirty years, but he was determined to have Izzy's pleasure first.

He settled himself between her legs, spreading her thighs apart, breath ghosting over her most intimate places. A fierce masculine pride surged through him at the thought that no one but him had ever seen Belle in such a way. In both the Enchanted Forest and their cursed memories he had been her only lover.

Izzy was shaking beneath him as he parted her folds with his tongue, letting out breathy little gasps as her hands fisted in the bedclothes. He grabbed her by the hips, pulling her close and settling her thighs on his shoulders as his tongue went deeper, tasting the sweet musk of her. And oh how he'd wanted this for so long. He'd hated himself for it in the Dark Castle, stumbling upon Belle stooped over scrubbing the floors, her perfect little bottom in the air as she went about her work. He'd dreamed of this then, of her letting him taste her, ready and willing for him.

Pushing those thoughts from his head, Rumple applied himself to his task, swirling his tongue around the bud of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Izzy's legs began to tremble as he gently sucked her swollen clit. One of her small hands plunged into his hair, holding him to her as the other scratched at his bare shoulder, her hips rocking against his mouth.

Her breathy little cries were gaining volume as he inserted a finger into her tight heat, slowly thrusting in and out as his tongue flicked against her. And then Izzy's entire body was wracked with spasms, her cries reaching a fever pitch before she collapsed back against the pillows. Gold had never seen anything as beautiful as Belle at the height of passion. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, chest heaving as she came back to herself.

He climbed back up the length of her body, settling himself at her side as he kissed her once more. Izzy moaned contentedly into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You haven't done that in a while," she said with a purr.

He'd actually never done that, at least not to her. But Izzy didn't know that. To her this was nothing special, just a couple reconnecting after a bit of a dry spell. For him, this was coming home. Expressing his love for her in the only way he could after far too long apart.

And that's why he couldn't finish this. Not the way she wanted. She had no idea what this really meant.

He started to pull away but Izzy was already pushing at his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. She had straddled him a moment later, her hands undoing the button and fly on his trousers and starting to pull them down.

He grabbed her wrists for the second time that night.

"What are you doing?"

Izzy looked confused. "Taking your pants off. How else am I supposed to return the favor?"

Rumple could feel his eyes bulging in his head. The idea of Belle's perfect mouth around his cock was too much to take. He grasped her by the hips and gently eased her off of him.

"What are you doing?" Izzy asked, sounding affronted.

"Sweetheart, you don't owe me anything. It was my pleasure."

"But I want to," Izzy frowned. She reached for him again, cupping one hand over his erection and Rumple nearly fell off the bed in his haste to extract himself from her grasp.

Standing proved to be a bad idea. With his belt, buttons and fly all undone, his trousers slid down his legs pooling around his ankles, and Rumple was left standing in the middle of the bedroom in nothing but a pair of boxers.

Izzy suddenly seemed to feel the sting of rejection as she crossed her arms protectively across her naked chest.

"I'm sorry," she said, gathering the rumpled bedclothes to her chest, a belated attempt at protecting her modesty. "I guess I misread the signals tonight."

One look at her dejected face had Rumplestitlskin mentally kicking himself. What was the point of being noble if Belle was still hurt?

"You didn't misread anything, sweetheart."

"You obviously don't want this," she said, shrinking even more into herself beneath the covers. "I'm not going to force myself on someone unwilling, even my own husband."

Gold gestured at his engorged cock, clearly visible through his underwear.

"On what planet is this unwilling?"

Izzy looked up at him confusedly. "Then what's wrong?"

He had no answer for her, at least none that would make any sense. "I'm sorry but you're actually an alternate personality of my True Love and to fuck you would feel like infidelity and also disrespectful to your body, oh and all your memories are false" didn't seem like a satisfactory explanation.

"Izzy, if you…touch me, I'm likely to erupt."

The corner of Izzy's mouth quirked up in the beginnings of a smile. "Well that is the general idea."

"I can't make it good for you, Isobel."

"You've already made it good for me," Izzy said, biting her lip deliciously. "Now it's your turn. Let me please you. I want to."

When had his sweet little caretaker turned into such a minx?

Dropping the bed sheets to her waist, Izzy clamored to her knees on the bed, snaking her arms around his neck.

"Don't think so much."

So he didn't.

His lips found hers once more, as Gold maneuvered Izzy back to lie against the pillows. Kissing her breathless, he snaked one hand between them, stroking a finger against her entrance and finding her positively dripping.

With a growl, Gold left her lips to trail kisses down her neck, sinking his teeth into the tender place where her neck and shoulder met. Izzy cried out and bucked her hips against his, driving him wild.

Andrew Gold was an attorney, and Rumplestiltskin was fairly certain no court of law could hold him responsible for his actions as Izzy ground her hips against his. All thought left his mind as Izzy grappled with his boxers, pushing them down and freeing his tortured cock at long last.

Wrapping one hand around his engorged length, she gave him two pumps before he was grabbing her hand and pulling it away.

"If you keep that up we won't get to the good part," he whispered in her ear, as Izzy giggled.

She was wrapping her legs around his waist a moment later and urging him on.

"Please. I need you."

At that, Rumple couldn't seem to find a single argument left in his head. Belle needed him. She wanted him. And he'd be damned if he ever refused her anything ever again.

Taking himself in hand, he lined them up before slowly pushing into her.

She was just as tight and hot and wet as he remembered from their one tryst in the dungeons of his castle. But this time, he would do things right. This time, they were cushioned on a plush bed with rich coverings. They were in a warm bedroom, the glow of the lamplight playing across their bodies. This was far away from the cold, dingy, grey dungeon of the Dark Castle. This is how it should have always been.

Izzy's legs tightened around him, pulling him deep within her until their hips were flush against each other.

Rumple let out a muffled sob at the feeling of being completely sheathed within his Belle once more, tears springing to his eyes at the depth of love he felt for her.

Izzy reached up and cupped his cheek with one hand, her thumb smoothing across his cheekbone.

"I've missed you," she said, pressing her forehead against his.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

And then he was moving within her with slow, deep thrusts. Izzy was moving with him, rolling her hips until he was going even deeper within her.

Picking up his pace, their mouths met in a sloppy kiss.

"God, Belle, you feel so fucking good."

Izzy moaned against his mouth, grabbing his ass to urge him on faster. She angled her hips up until he was grinding against her clit, her moans turning into a steady stream of curses and prayers interspersed with his cursed name.

"Andrew, that's it, fucking hell, right there!"

A few more thrusts and her body went tense once again, her head thrown back with a silent scream. Gold kept thrusting into her, drawing out her orgasm until she was shuddering and sobbing beneath him.

He could feel the sweat beading against his back as he fought to stave off his own release. He didn't want this to end.

Izzy snaked a hand up into his hair, massaging the nape of his neck. "You can come, baby."

Any remaining shreds of sanity Rumple had were eviscerated at that. Grabbing Izzy behind her knees, he pulled her legs up over his shoulders, fucking her hard into the mattress. His thrusts grew more and more erratic as Izzy writhed beneath him, her body suddenly wracked with another orgasm. The feel of her inner muscles tightening around him was too much to take and he came hard, emptying himself inside her as he called out her true name.

"Belle – oh God, Belle!"

He collapsed on to her, trying and failing to brace his weight on his forearms. Izzy wrapped her arms around his shoulders kissing his sweaty temple.

They lay there for a while, too spent to even move as their breathing returned to normal. It was only as he shrank out of her that Rumple came back to himself enough to realize what he'd just done.

Hoisting himself up on his arms, he searched her body for any sign of harm.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" he asked frantically. "I got carried away, I was too rough."

Izzy just gave him a sleepy smile. "Are you kidding? That was incredible. I'm not breakable, Andrew."

"I'm sorry," he said, tears springing to his eyes again as he peppered her face with kisses. "I'm so sorry."

He repeated himself over and over, his apology a mantra between kisses. Sorry not just for taking her with such abandon just now, but sorry for the lies he'd had to tell, sorry for the curse that had robbed her of her memories, sorry for the way he'd thrown her out of the castle, sorry for any suffering she'd endured at the hands of Regina, sorry for ever naming her as his price in the first place. He had so many things to apologize for, and she didn't even know.

"It's okay. There's nothing to forgive," Izzy returned, stroking her hands up and down his back soothingly.

If only she knew how wrong she was.

She continued murmuring words of comfort in his ear until exhaustion overcame them. Reversing their positions so Izzy was lying with her head atop his chest, Rumple tried to stave off the sleep threatening to claim him.

"I think I like it when you call me Belle," Izzy said, pressing a sleepy kiss to his chest. "It feels right."

Rumple tightened his arms around her small frame. He would make Belle love him. He would break her curse, they would find Baelfire together, and then he would spend the rest of his unnaturally long life making things up to both of them. Even if they both hated him and wanted nothing more to do with him, he would make sure they were safe and happy. It was the least he could do for their suffering.


	12. Save a Prayer til the Morning After

Izzy awoke the next morning more content than she could ever remember being. She felt the deep relaxation of the well fucked, her body slightly sore in all the right ways. She reached out a hand to the opposite side of the bed, hoping to cuddle up next to Andrew, only to be met with cold sheets.

Sitting up and opening her eyes, Izzy stared at the empty pillow beside her.

She had fallen asleep in his arms the night before. She had hoped to wake there as well, and perhaps even coax him into a repeat performance before they both had to go to work.

It had probably been unwise to succumb to her body's desires last night. She'd told herself they had far too many issues to sort out before anything like that could happen between them.

But then she'd come home and he'd been such a mess. She never could have imagined her leaving would have such an effect on her husband.

She still wasn't sure he was telling her the absolute truth about things. There was the matter of his safe, the parchment with the mysterious Emma covering it. She wasn't exactly happy with him that he'd made a deal for Ashley's child, though she could certainly understand his reasoning.

But all of that seemed to pale in comparison to the hurt in his eyes she had seen last night. Her husband was such a stoic man, his exterior almost infuriatingly calm. To see him teary eyed, gripping a broken teacup had completely unmanned her. She just wanted to comfort him in the only way she knew how.

With a smile, Izzy reached out for her silk bathrobe, wrapping it around herself before heading to the bathroom. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she smiled again at the love bites marring the skin of her neck where Andrew had bit down on her in the height of passion. She hoped the weather was cool today, because she'd have to wear a turtleneck or face the entire town thinking her husband had abused her.

There was nothing in her that regretted last night. Their sex life, when they'd had one, had been adequate. He always got the job done. But like every other aspect of her husband, their intimacies had been reserved and cold. She'd never seen him abandon himself like that. She loved the sight of him falling apart in her arms, driven to distraction by her body.

Before, it had always felt like sex for the sake of sex. As though they were mechanically going through the motions. Last night, she felt like they'd made love.

Making love. That's what they'd done. She'd never given much thought to the term before, thinking it nothing but a pretty euphemism for sex used in her romance novels. Now she could see how wrong she'd been.

It was emotion and desperation, clinging to the other person not just because of your bodily needs, but because your whole being cried out to be connected to that one specific person. As their bodies had moved together, Izzy had almost felt transcendent. Like there was some greater truth just beyond her comprehension, and she could almost grasp it if she could just mold herself closer to Gold.

Izzy shook her head. One good fuck and she was turning spiritual.

After washing her face and smoothing out her wild curls, she headed downstairs to look for Andrew.

The kitchen was empty, but there was a fresh pot of tea sitting on the countertop beside a single red rose from the garden. There was a folded note next to it.

Picking up the rose and inhaling its fresh scent, Izzy's eyes scanned her husband's small neat script.

_My Darling Belle,_

_I had some early business to attend to. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you. Enjoy your tea._

_Yours,_

_A_

Izzy tried to rein in her disappointment. He'd left her a note instead of running off without telling her. He'd left her a beautiful flower, a sure sign he was thinking of her. He'd referred to her as his darling Belle. That bit in particular made her smile, remembering Andrew gasping out the nickname as he buried himself inside her.

But she was so hoping to see him this morning.

Never mind that. She'd just pop by the shop and get him to go to lunch with her. Izzy was determined to save her marriage, now that she knew there was something to save. She wouldn't give up so easily. Things were changing for the first time in years. She had to make sure those changes were for the better.

She quickly dressed and headed to the library, forgoing her morning stop at Granny's. She was sure she had a dreamy expression on her face and she didn't want to field any questions from Ruby.

When she arrived outside the library doors slightly before 7:30, she found Henry Mills waiting for her.

"Henry? What are you doing here this early?"

Henry was one of her most frequent patrons at the library. He was a voracious reader with a certain proclivity for fairy tales. He also was a bit of a loner, something Izzy could well relate to. Despite having a few close friends, Izzy had never been much of a social butterfly.

Henry had spent many a Saturday holed up in the library with Izzy – she sometimes wondered if he was just trying to escape his mother – but he'd never stopped by before school before.

"Hi, Mrs. Gold," the boy said cheerfully. In fact, he seemed more cheerful than he had in a long time. She wondered if that had anything to do with his birth mother roaming around town. "I know you're not open yet, but I wondered if I could come in and look around."

"Sure," Izzy said, unlocking the door and holding it open for the boy. "But, don't you have school?"

"Of course," Henry said, dropping his backpack off by the front door and heading toward the children's section. "We have a field trip to the hospital today. We're making decorations for the patients."

"That's very nice of you," Izzy called to him from the circulation desk.

"It's Ms. Blanchard's idea," Henry said with a shrug, bending down to extract a book from one of the lower shelves.

"Well, regardless I'm sure the hospital patients will be very grateful."

"Hey, Mrs. Gold, your first name is Isobel, right?" Henry asked, making his way to the circulation desk with a small stack of books.

"Yes," Izzy agreed, wondering where this conversation was going.

"And you really like books," Henry said, gesturing at the library around them. "And you're really pretty, too."

Izzy smiled at the boy, not sure what Henry was trying to deduce. "Thank you Henry, that's very kind."

Henry eyed her with a knowing smirk. It almost made her feel like the child knew something she didn't.

"What about Mr. Gold?" Henry asked after a moment. "Would you say he's – beastly?"

Izzy's mind couldn't help but go to thoughts of Andrew pounding into her the night before and she could feel her cheeks flush, which was ridiculous because a ten-year-old boy could hardly know what she was thinking.

She stammered over her words anyway. "I – no – of course not, Henry. He's my husband."

Henry's brow wrinkled at that. "Yeah, I guess not. You wouldn't be together if he were."

Izzy was thoroughly confused by this cryptic conversation as she stamped Henry's library books and handed them to him across the counter.

"I've gotta get to school. Thanks, Mrs. Gold!" Henry called as he rushed out the door.

It wasn't until he'd been gone several minutes that Izzy realized he'd just checked out a beautifully illustrated copy of Beauty and the Beast.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin had awoken before the first rays of sun breached the horizon. He wasn't sure he had slept much at all. Despite the bone deep exhaustion he'd felt all day coupled with the vigorous exercise he and Izzy had enjoyed that night, he had experienced a fitful night's sleep.

He'd been plagued with nightmares every time he shut his eyes, waking up panting and sweating trying to purge the images from his mind. The sight of Belle's blue eyes, soul shattering in their sadness when he told her he didn't want her anymore. Bae's small hand slipping through his own as his boy plunged into the swirling green portal. The last sight of his father, standing alone on a beach as the shadow pulled him away.

But those were only memories, all of them. The real nightmare was when they converged. Bae yelling at him that he was a coward, that he would never forgive him, that Rumple was selfish and had never tried to find him. Belle, burned and scarred beyond recognition by the clerics, crying, accusing him of failing her, telling him no woman could ever love a monster like him. His father was the worst of all, telling him he was unwanted, nothing more than a burden to be rid of.

He'd eventually given up trying to sleep and slipped out of bed to start the day at 4 in the morning.

Now it was almost noon. His head ached from lack of sleep and too much whiskey. His ankle was burning from the extra effort he'd put on it last night. And his heart was sorest of all.

He'd always been a greedy bastard, but he'd hoped he could control himself for Belle's sake. It turned out his self control was even more lacking than he'd thought.

There was no way he could face her this morning. He'd never claimed to be brave. He was still determined to make her fall in love with him again, but seeing her so soon after last night quite literally gave the Dark One butterflies. Who would have thought such a thing was possible?

Part of him was sure Izzy would regret making love. That she would wake up in disgust to see him beside her. The dreams certainly hadn't helped that train of thought. So he'd seen himself off to the shop at the crack of dawn, and he'd been hiding in the back room ever since.

Well, no, not hiding. The Dark One doesn't hide from a little slip of a girl no matter how blue her eyes and how distracting the curves of her body. Though that's not exactly true either. He'd spent half their time in the Dark Castle trying to spend as much time in her presence as possible and the other half hiding away in his tower, praying she wouldn't come looking for him.

Confronting his feelings then had been exhausting. But this wasn't like last time. For one, Rumple was dead certain that he loved her. Secondly, he knew now without a doubt that she had loved him as well. It was the only explanation for his curse break. Belle had never betrayed him, he'd been tricked by the Queen. He was always so ready to believe the worst of everyone and everything that he'd been easy to manipulate.

The tinkling of the bell interrupted his thoughts, and Rumple made his way to the front of the shop, limping even more than usual on his bad ankle.

He was somewhat shocked to see the subject of his ruminations standing in front of the counter, like she'd materialized out of his thoughts.

The sight of Izzy's long pale legs peeking out of her short black skirt arrested his eyes, her sky high heels making them look even more sinful. Legs that had been wrapped around his waist only twelve short hours ago. Rumple could feel his cheeks heating at that thought. And God damn it all, the Dark One did not blush!

"Hey," he said, eyes quickly finding her face and almost being blinded by the brilliant smile she gave him. It was entirely possible she didn't regret last night at all.

"Hi," she said in reply, walking forward a bit to wrap her arms around his neck. She was so close he could smell the floral scent of her shampoo, could feel the pleasant warmth of her body. A big part of him, well a rather adequately sized part of him, wanted to pull her into the back room and have his way with her again.

He settled for placing his hands on her waist, restraining himself from touching her anywhere else.

"You left so early this morning, I didn't get a chance to properly thank you," she said, biting her lip in a way that went straight to his groin.

"Thank me for what?" he asked. His mind was sluggish, and all he could concentrate on was the feel of Izzy's hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Izzy's smile widened. "For the multiple orgasms, of course."

Rumple could feel his cheeks redden even more at that. Izzy let out a tinkling laugh.

"I was gonna make you breakfast," she said, nuzzling her nose against his neck. "But since I couldn't, can I take you to lunch at Granny's instead?"

Gold couldn't have said no if he'd wanted to, not with her curls tickling his cheek, her lips finding the sensitive point beneath his ear, the smell of her enveloping him.

"I'd love to, sweetheart."

Izzy gave him another brilliant smile before pulling away from him. His body protested the loss of her warmth, but a moment later she placed her small hand in his and was pulling him toward the front door of the shop.

"Let's go!"

* * *

Emma Swan wasn't quite sure what to make of Storybrooke. It was a weird town. It had a weird mayor. The people were friendly enough, but straight up weird. No wonder Henry had his Fairy Tale theory.

Emma had never been much for small towns. She much preferred the anonymity afforded by large cities like New York and Boston. She'd already stayed here far longer than she imagined when Henry first turned up on her doorstep. But she couldn't leave yet. There was something pulling at her, rooting her to the spot. That something just so happened to have her smile and his father's big brown eyes. She'd given Henry up to make sure he had his best chance at something she'd never had, a family. She felt she owed it to him to make sure he was okay.

Finding Henry the only child of a bitchy local politician and attending weekly therapy sessions with a doctor he thought was Jiminy Cricket was not exactly the life she'd had in mind for him.

Regardless of how she found Storybrooke, the town did have one thing going for it. Granny's made a hell of a cup of coffee.

After spending the night in her car thanks to said bitchy politician having her kicked out of the only Inn in town, Emma needed all the coffee she could get.

Granny's had the usual lunch time rush at this time of day, so Emma sidled up to the counter waiting to grab Ruby's attention. As she waited, she cast an eye around at the patrons of the diner. Her former jail cell neighbor Leroy was down the counter from her, discreetly tipping a flask into his coffee. Dr. Hopper was having lunch with an elderly man in one of the booths. In the back corner, Mr. Gold the pawnbroker was sitting with an extremely pretty young woman. That didn't sit right.

"Hey Emma," Ruby approached with a smile. "What can I get you?"

"Just a coffee to go." Emma inclined her head at Gold's booth. "You said he owns the whole town. Does he own her too?"

Ruby glanced over to where Emma had gestured. "Who? Izzy?" Ruby shrugged. "That's a matter for debate."

"Who is she?"

"Town librarian and my best friend," Ruby said with a smile. "Isobel Gold."

"Is she his daughter?" Emma asked at the name. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Izzy reach for Gold's hand across the table. That definitely didn't sit right.

Ruby let out a hearty laugh. "Oh no, she's his wife."

Emma had to let that one sink in.

"He's married? Didn't seem the type."

"They've been together for a while now," Ruby said, finishing up pouring Emma's coffee and sliding the Styrofoam cup over to her. "Izzy started working for him not long after we graduated high school and they've pretty much been together ever since."

Emma turned her attention back to the couple. Izzy had just laughed out loud at something Gold had said. Weird.

"It's kind of strange to see them in here together, though." Ruby said after a moment. "Izzy comes in here all the time, but Gold only comes by on rent collection days."

Ruby shrugged and moved on to her next customer.

Emma took a sip of the coffee, trying not to stare at the couple in the corner. The girl, Izzy, was beautiful. All tousled brown curls and bright blue eyes. She was also positively beaming at Gold. For his part, Gold looked absolutely smitten. He was looking at Izzy the way Neal had once looked at her. Well, Emma for one knew how fleeting that could be.

The way people talked about Gold, all hushed whispers and fear, didn't lend itself to a pretty young wife. The conclusions she'd come to in her head about the man didn't jive with what she was seeing now. Emma prided herself on reading people. The idea that she'd read Gold wrong was uncomfortable.

Well, just because a man had eyes for a pretty woman didn't mean he couldn't be dangerous.

Emma took another sip of coffee as she stalked out of the diner. She had shit to do. She needed to find a place to crash, stay one step ahead of Regina, and figure out just what the hell she was going to do with Henry and his Operation Cobra. Ruminating on the love life of a crotchety old bastard wasn't high on her list.

Turning around for one last glance at the couple through the diner window, Emma made eye contact with the ice blue eyes of Izzy Gold. They bore into her for a moment, rooting her to the spot, before sliding quickly away as Izzy smiled pleasantly at the waitress delivering their food.

Emma continued down the steps of the diner and out on to the street. Something told her she shouldn't underestimate Izzy Gold any more than she should underestimate her husband.


	13. Try

**A/N: In which Izzy frets, Mr. Gold has a massive headache and Emma gets suspicious.**

**There is a minor reference to wanking in this chapter, which will probably sadly be my only contribution to the Tumblr Wank Week (tm).**

**Thanks so much for your reviews, follows and favorites! Your feedback is so appreciated! **

* * *

The next few days passed quietly for Izzy. There was a newfound sense of peace between she and Gold. He'd started coming home from the shop earlier, often times arriving in time to help her prepare dinner. After dinner, instead of disappearing to his study, he would sit with her in the living room, watching television, reading or simply just enjoying each other's presence.

The silences between them used to be awkward and drag out with the weight of everything going unsaid between them. Now they were comfortable. Sometimes Izzy would look up from her book and catch her husband just staring at her with a slightly bemused smile on his face.

Things were definitely looking up for them.

They hadn't slept together again. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them to take things slowly. But Izzy couldn't find it in her to regret jump-starting their relationship that way. It was almost as if sex had broken the ice between them. It was something they needed to do in order to become more emotionally intimate. And she was definitely looking forward to getting to that stage in their relationship again.

Despite the peace in her personal life, there was some uproar in town about a John Doe coma patient who had awoken in the hospital and promptly gone on a midnight stroll through the woods.

Izzy had heard the story first hand from Mary Margaret Blanchard as they stood in line at the grocery store. Mary Margaret had apparently been the one to save the man's life, though she was quick to deflect any praise.

"Honestly, I just did what anyone else would do," the schoolteacher said. "I'm just glad we were able to find him before anything bad happened."

Izzy smiled at her friend, "Do they know who he is? Does he have any family?"

"Um, yeah, actually." Mary Margaret responded, suddenly very interested in a lip balm display by the check out counter. "His wife came by the hospital yesterday. His name is David Nolan."

"Mr. Nolan owes his life to Mary Margaret," Graham said, walking up behind them and placing several frozen dinners and a six-pack of beer on the conveyor belt.

"I wouldn't go that far," Mary Margaret said, blushing prettily. "Graham, are you living on those things?" she asked, gesturing at the stack of frozen meals.

"Such is the life of a confirmed bachelor," Graham shrugged. "I'm a lone wolf."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "Anytime you want a home cooked meal, you know where to find me."

Mary Margaret completed her purchase and headed out the door with a wave.

"And how are you, Mrs. Gold?" Graham asked as Izzy fished her wallet out of her purse.

"I'm doing well, Sheriff Humbert," she replied with a smile, "And how are you?"

Izzy had always liked Graham. He was one of the few people in town who didn't seem petrified of her husband, and by extension, her. She'd had a bit of a crush on him in her younger years, but ever since her marriage she had counted him, along with Ruby, as one of her few good friends.

"Well, as you can see I have a big weekend planned," he said, gesturing to his groceries.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "I've got to find you a wife, Graham. You're completely hopeless."

Graham just shook his head. "Lone wolf, remember? Besides, all the good ones are taken," he added with a wink.

"Sheriff Humbert, I do believe you're flirting with me."

"Yeah, well, you're safe. If I ever tried anything, your husband would break both my legs," he said with a smirk.

"Oh don't flatter yourself," Izzy said, patting him on the arm. "He'd kill you."

Graham laughed a little nervously at that before something caught his eye outside on the street.

"Um…excuse me, Izzy. I'll be right back."

With that he darted out on to the street after a swish of long blonde hair.

* * *

"Doesn't it seem strange?" Izzy asked her husband that night, continuing as though they'd been mid conversation.

Andrew looked up from his book and quirked his brow. "How an old monster like me wound up with a beautiful young thing like you? I'm constantly baffled."

"You're hardly a monster, and you're not old." Izzy rolled her eyes, "Besides, I'm talking about Kathryn Nolan. I know her, and I never even knew she had a husband. It just seems strange that he pops up all of a sudden."

"How do you know Kathryn Nolan?" her husband asked.

Izzy shrugged. "She comes by the library occasionally, and we're in the same yoga class."

Gold looked even more confused at that. "Since when do you do yoga?"

"I've done it for years. How do you think I got so limber?" she asked with a wink.

Izzy giggled as her husband blushed and hid himself back behind his book.

"I'm serious though," she continued. "This whole situation seems weird. How could a woman not know her own husband was in a coma in the hospital in the same town for years on end?"

Gold shrugged, "I imagine they weren't that close."

"Neither are we, I'd still notice if you just never came home one night. I wouldn't assume you'd just up and moved away."

Andrew closed his book and set it down on the arm of his chair. His body posture was tense as he looked up at her with a stricken expression.

"You didn't think I'd notice if you left."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean -" Izzy trailed off, not sure what to say. "It's just we aren't that close. It's getting better and I hope that'll change, but you didn't even know I took yoga. Where did you think I went three afternoons a week?"

"I didn't know you went anywhere," he said with a frown. "I've been a truly shit husband."

Izzy got up from her spot on the couch with a sigh, crossing the room to perch herself on Andrew's good leg.

"Hey," she said, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at her. "We're working this out. I'm committed to it, and it seems like you are to."

He nodded as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer against him.

"Now kiss me, you silly man."

And he did, cradling the back of her head and kissing her sweetly, like she was something precious. It was times like these Izzy could almost believe that her husband did love her, albeit in his own quiet way.

That's why it was a shock for Izzy to find herself alone at the kitchen table at 9:00 on a Friday night.

She stared down at the cannelloni on her plate, her stomach twisting into knots. Everything had seemed to be going well between them. He'd kissed her silly last night before breaking it off before things grew too heated between them. He'd disappeared to the bathroom for a long shower after that. Izzy smirked. She didn't begrudge her husband a wank in the service of taking things slowly, especially when she was the cause.

Ever since the night she'd planned to leave, the night Emma arrived in town, the night her husband came home a changed man, things had been different. But here she was, alone, staring down cold dinner plates like so many nights before.

This wasn't before, though, Izzy thought, standing up from the dinner table. They were meant to be working on their marriage. If Andrew was going to work late or be off until all hours of the night terrorizing his debtors, the least he could do was call.

Izzy grabbed her cell phone from her purse and punched in Gold's number angrily. It rang three times before going to voicemail. With a huff she hit redial, only to be met once again with her husband's infuriating brogue telling her to leave a message at the tone.

Slamming the phone down on the table, she topped off her glass of wine before stalking into the living room and picking up her battered copy of "On the Road". When Andrew came home, she'd be waiting for his explanation.

* * *

Izzy must have fallen asleep, because she awoke suddenly to the sound of the front door closing. The lamp on the side table was the only light in the living room, and it cast long shadows across the various knickknacks and collectibles that cluttered the space. Sitting up and stretching, she glanced at the clock on the mantle to see it was almost half past midnight. What on earth had Andrew been doing all night?

"Where have you been?" she called to him groggily. All sound of activity in the entrance hall ceased for a moment, as if her husband had frozen in place. Then she heard the telltale sign of his cane as he shuffled his way toward the living room.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn't have waited up for me," he said, still shrouded in the shadows of the hallway. "Go up to bed. I'll be there in a bit."

"What kept you?" she asked, struggling to see him in the dim lamplight.

"Business," he answered succinctly. "There was some trouble over a contract."

Izzy scooped up her book that had slipped from her fingers when she fell asleep, along with her wineglass and headed out to the hall. The way her husband was carrying himself seemed odd. His head was bent low and his shoulders hunched, as if he were trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

She reached out and flipped on the hall light letting out a gasp at what she saw.

Andrew's eyes were puffy and red, the left side of his face covered in a smear of blood, and an angry bruise was making itself known along his left temple.

"What the hell happened to you?" she exclaimed, pushing his hair back from his face to better assess his wounds.

Andrew sighed and slumped against the wall. "As I said, there was some trouble over a contract." He said matter-of-factly.

"Trouble?" Izzy very well shrieked. "Have you looked in a mirror, Andrew? You're bleeding from the head!"

"Well, that explains the headache," Gold replied wryly, trying to edge past her down the hallway.

"I'm calling Graham," Izzy said, moving to collect her cell phone from the coffee table. But Andrew caught her by the elbow before she could take more than one step.

"Absolutely not. I don't need the police involved. I'm fine."

"Like hell! At least let me take you to the hospital?"

"Belle, I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache." He said, clenching the head of his cane in his fist. "A shower, a good night's sleep and I'll be good as new."

"Well, at least let me clean you up?" she asked, pointing him in the direction of the living room.

Andrew sighed again, moving around her into the living room and taking a seat on the couch.

"Wait right here," Izzy commanded.

Making her way to the kitchen, Izzy had to clench her fists to keep her hands from shaking. Andrew had been attacked. He could have been badly hurt. She could have lost him. The thought pierced her heart in a way she'd never felt before. Bending over the kitchen sink, she took several deep breaths before pulling a bowl out from under the sink and filling it with warm water. She grabbed an ice pack from the freezer then stopped in the hall bathroom for the first aid kit and some towels before making her way back to the living room.

Andrew was leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and a pained expression on his face.

"Oh no you don't," Izzy called. "Don't fall asleep. You could have a concussion."

Andrew opened an eye and leveled her with his best glare.

"Honestly, woman. I'm fine. Don't be ridiculous," Andrew said as he made to get up from the sofa.

Izzy rushed forward to place her supplies on the coffee table before grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to sit back.

"Goddammit, Andrew. Let me take care of you!"

Gold looked at her for a moment with a quizzical expression before he settled back against the sofa with a resigned sigh.

Izzy busied her shaking hands by spreading out her first aid supplies. She had gauze, antiseptic and cotton swabs along with the towels and water. Once she'd prepared her supplies, she took a seat on the coffee table and turned back to Andrew.

"Now tell me exactly what happened."

"It was your friend Miss Boyd."

"Ashley did this to you?" she asked, flabbergasted. "But how? She's nine months pregnant. She couldn't possibly have overpowered you."

"Pepper spray," he explained, gesturing at his inflamed eyes. "The rest I did to myself."

Izzy dipped a washcloth into the basin of warm water and began to wipe the sticky residue from her husband's eyelashes.

"Why would she do this?" she asked, though she could guess the answer.

"It would appear Miss Boyd has changed her mind about relinquishing her child into my care," he said with a hiss as Izzy moved to cleaning the blood from his face. The cut wasn't deep, luckily. She didn't think he'd need stitches. "She stole the contract from my safe. Sadly for her, it wasn't my only copy."

"How did you slice open your head?"

"After receiving a face full of pepper spray, I wasn't quite in a position to watch where I was going." Gold said with a quirk of his eyebrow. "I may have stumbled into the edge of one of my display cases."

Izzy set down the towel and reached for the antiseptic while trying to blink the tears from her eyes that threatened to fall.

"You could have been killed," she said, hating the way her voice broke on the last word. "The next time I see Ashley I'll wring her neck, I don't care how pregnant she is."

"Hey," Andrew said, covering one of her hands with his own. "I'm fine. It takes a fair bit more than a hormonal pregnant woman to kill me."

Izzy gave him a watery smile as she poured antiseptic onto the cotton swab and brushed it along Gold's cut. He grimaced but otherwise showed no pain. She taped a bit of gauze over the cut before pressing the ice pack to the side of his head.

"Not quite good as new, but it'll do," she said as she leaned back to survey her handiwork. "I guess I should make some coffee. I should stay awake to keep an eye on you."

"I'll be up for a while longer," Gold said with a shake of his head. "I still have some work to do. As it was, I got about a three-hour nap on my shop floor. Remind me to sweep. That floor's disgusting."

"You were unconscious?" Izzy said, moving to stand up. "That's it. I'm calling Doctor Whale."

"Belle," he said, grabbing her hand.

"Look, Andrew, I don't care about the shady deals you want to keep private, I don't care if they lock Ashley up for assault, I care about my husband," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "It's bad enough you drove home when you probably have a concussion. Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Well I was worried!" Izzy was yelling now. She couldn't help herself. She'd been keyed up already when she hadn't heard from Andrew all night, and now her frustrations were boiling over. She could feel the fear and anger and a fair amount of guilt roiling in her stomach, making her lash out. "You're hours late, you weren't answering your phone. I thought I'd end up with a husband in a coma like Kathryn Nolan."

She didn't realize she was shaking until she felt Gold's hands cup her shoulders, steadying her.

"What's this really about?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "If you get this upset over every person in town who wants to knock me unconscious, you'll spend the rest of your life in a constant state of agitation."

Izzy leveled a glare at him for his quip.

"I was angry with you," she said finally. "I thought you were just blowing me off like you used to."

Gold looked like he wanted to interject, so Izzy continued quickly, "But you weren't. You were hurt, and I hate that I thought the worst of you. I just got you back. I don't want to lose you."

Andrew pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the dusty smell of his shop.

"You're not going to lose me," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere unless you specifically ask me to."

Izzy let out a shuddering breath, pulling back to look her husband in the eye.

"What are you going to do about Ashley?" she asked with mounting trepidation. "I'm angry with her, but she was my friend once. I don't want anything bad to happen to her."

Andrew planted another kiss on her forehead. "Which is exactly why I don't intend to involve the sheriff's department in this. Miss Boyd will not be having her child in prison."

"But you're not going to let her get away with this," Izzy said, eyeing him with suspicion. "You have a plan."

"I always have a plan," her husband said with a smirk. "Sit down, sweetheart. Maybe you can help me."

* * *

Emma found herself surrounded by a modest pile of boxes on her first Saturday morning in Storybrooke. It was good to have her stuff with her, even if she didn't have much by way of earthly possessions. She'd made it pretty far in life with nothing but the clothes on her back and a yellow Volkswagen bug. Anything much else just seemed like clutter.

Graham had offered her a job as his deputy just the day before. Would a police badge count as clutter? She hadn't quite decided yet.

She paid no mind to the knock on the door as Mary Margaret went to answer it, but was startled from her reverie by a man's voice asking for her.

Peeking out into the hallway over Mary Margaret's shoulder she saw Mr. Gold, the petite form of Isobel Gold at his side.

"Hi!" Isobel said brightly, reaching out to shake Emma's hand. "We haven't met yet, I'm Isobel Gold. I think you met my husband briefly."

"Yeah, I remember," Emma said, shaking the brunette's hand warily.

"We have a proposition for you, Miss Swan," Mr. Gold said with a grin.

Emma felt her insides clinch. This couldn't be a good start to the day.


	14. A Favor Earned

**In which Gold manipulates, Emma plays right into his hand and Izzy ends up hella pissed off.**

**A/N: What are you talking about? It hasn't been a month and a half since I updated this! You're crazy! Some dialogue from this chapter is taken from Episode 1x04, The Price of Gold.**

* * *

"You want me to what?"

Izzy was staring at him like he was insane.

Rumplestitlskin sighed and placed his teacup back down on the coffee table. They'd spent the last hour discussing his plan to deal with Ashley Boyd, but Izzy still wasn't sold on his idea.

In truth, he probably wasn't explaining himself well. The problem with Izzy being Izzy rather than Belle, was that he could never tell her the whole truth.

The real reason he had to see through the deal with the little pauper princess was because it was magically forged in the Enchanted Forest. The rules of magic were precise and unyielding. Even someone as powerful as the Dark One couldn't break them. Chief among those rules was that all magic had a price. There were no free lunches as far as magic was concerned, and Miss Boyd could not receive something for nothing. The price would be exacted somehow, and Rumplestiltskin didn't relish paying it.

But he had no intention of taking her child. Even in the Enchanted Forest the baby had been a ruse, a way to get what he really wanted. No, he wanted something even more special than Ella's brat. He wanted the Savior on his side. She had a knack for finding people after all.

Now he had to balance the pieces just right to ensure that happened.

"It's quite simple, sweetheart," he explained. "Miss Boyd will most likely make herself scarce following tonight's attack. I propose we implore Miss Swan to help us find her."

Izzy arched a brow at him. "And you want me to play the concerned best friend?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "You are her friend."

"Not anymore, I'm not," Izzy murmured under her breath, and Rumple's twisted heart leapt a little at her loyalty.

"Be that as it may, I'm hardly a sympathetic figure in this town," he continued. "I think Miss Swan might be more amenable to our needs if you express your concern for your friend. Perhaps you could mention the conversation you had with her at Ruby's. Perhaps you feel some guilt for urging her to keep her child."

Izzy's eyes snapped up to meet his. "Are you blaming me for this?"

"Absolutely not," he assured her. "I just think it behooves our case to Miss Swan if you feign a guilty conscience."

Izzy chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, lost in thought.

"I don't want Ashley to get away with this," she said, gesturing to his bandaged head. "But isn't there some other way? What would be so bad about letting Ashley keep her baby?"

"I've already lined up an adoption for the child," Rumple replied. "The Lang's have gone through a number of miscarriages in their efforts to have a child. Do you want to be the one to tell them they've lost this baby as well?"

Rumplestiltskin had found a home for Cinderella's baby with a childless noble and his wife back in the old world, just in case his plan for imprisonment went awry and he actually found himself with an infant. That part of the deal had been transferred to their Storybrooke counterparts.

Belle shook her head. "No, of course not. But what if she's changed her mind? What if she wants to be a mother?"

"Isobel, only a few months ago Miss Boyd was more than willing to give up her child in order to achieve a small amount of financial stability," Gold said. "Being a parent means sacrifice. Do you think she's ready to raise a child?"

"No, I don't," Izzy said resolutely. "But that's not really our decision is it?"

Gold stared at Izzy for a moment. She was just as stubborn as his Belle, that was a fact that hadn't changed. He wasn't sure he could actually win this conversation.

"It's not our decision, darling. It's Miss Boyd's. It's a decision she already made, and there are consequences for that. Consequences that she has to own up to."

Izzy still didn't look sold on the idea. "And why do we need Emma involved in all this in the first place? If you want to find Ashley, I'm sure I could track her down."

Gold sighed. This was another part of his plan he had to carefully vague about. Mr. Gold didn't have a son. Izzy had never been told of a son's existence. To tell the truth now would lead to many uncomfortable questions. Questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

"Emma Swan is the one person in this town, other than me, willing to stand up to Regina Mills," he finally conceded. "I need her on my side."

Izzy looked up at him with a wry twist to her mouth.

"Your constant need to get one over on Regina Mills is slightly worrisome."

"She's a miserable cunt," Gold said simply, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Izzy let out a barely contained snicker. "No argument there."

* * *

Emma rubbed at her temples as she glanced over the security photo Gold had handed to her. She recognized the girl as the pregnant maid at Granny's she'd run into the day before.

"Why don't you just go to the police?" she asked wearily.

"Because she's a confused young woman," Gold said, leaning against Mary Margaret's kitchen table.

"Ashley is one of my closest friends," his wife interjected. "For her to do something like this – " she trailed off, glancing at her husband.

"I don't want to ruin a young girl's life," he continued. "I just want my property returned."

"Okay," Emma sighed. "What did she take?"

Gold opened his mouth to answer her question but Izzy reached out and gripped his hand.

"Ashley stole a contract from my husband's safe last night. She broke into his shop, knocked him unconscious and took his keys."

As if to verify his wife's claim, Gold pulled his hair back from his forehead revealing a nasty gash to his left temple.

"I'm afraid it's true," Gold said. "And so unlike her. She was quite wound up, rambling on and on about changing her life."

Beside him, Isobel's eyes were filling with tears.

"I think it's all my fault," she sniffed prettily. "Ashley is pregnant. She's told me on multiple occasions that she doesn't want to keep the baby. But a few nights ago I told her she had to give the child it's best chance. I'm afraid my words might have spurred her to do something drastic. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Emma eyed the odd couple in front of her. Her gut told her neither of them were lying. But they were hiding something from her too. She didn't like it.

"This contract, what was it for?" she asked after a moment. "If Ashley was just looking to get some money to afford raising her kid, there are far more valuable things in your shop than a piece of paper."

Gold looked tense for a moment before answering.

"Part of the benefit of you not being the police is discretion," he said with a smile. "My only other option is the police, and I don't think any of us wants to see this baby born in jail, do we?"

That struck a chord. Emma was only too familiar with the joy of giving birth while wearing shackles. It wasn't a fate she'd wish on her worst enemy, much less a confused teenager who'd made a couple wrong choices. She'd been there as well.

"No, of course not."

"So you'll help us?" Izzy asked, her large blue eyes still shining with unshed tears. "You'll help Ashley?"

Emma stared at the young woman who'd somehow found herself married to the most powerful man in town. She didn't trust Gold as far as she could throw him, but his wife was a different story. There was something so innocent and _good_ that seemed to radiate from her entire being. She didn't know how that could survive close proximity to the pawnbroker, but the fact that it had spoke to the librarian's resiliency. She didn't trust Mr. Gold, but she might be able to trust Mrs. Gold.

"I'll help your friend," she directed to Izzy. The woman's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She really was beautiful.

"Thank you, Emma," she said, grasping her hand. For a horrifying moment Emma thought she might try to hug her. Luckily the moment was interrupted by the arrival of Henry.

"Oh, hey Mrs. Gold!" Henry said enthusiastically when he saw Emma's guests. "Mr. Gold," he added with less enthusiasm.

"Hey, Henry! How are you?" Mr. Gold asked with surprising sincerity.

"Okay," Henry replied awkwardly.

"Henry, if you come by the library later, I got some new books in I think you'd like," Izzy interjected.

Henry smiled, "Thanks, Mrs. Gold!"

With that, the oddest couple in Storybrooke left the apartment, leaving Emma in a daze. She had to find Ashley Boyd, and fast.

"Do you know who that is?" Henry asked as soon as they were gone.

"Yeah, of course I do," Emma replied, rifling through her newly arrived wardrobe.

"Who? 'Cause I'm still trying to figure it out. I mean, _obviously_ Mrs. Gold is Belle from Beauty and the Beast, but I have no clue who Mr. Gold is supposed to be."

Emma had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She had to hand it to the kid for his imagination, but this fairy tale thing was getting slightly ridiculous.

"Beauty and the Beast, huh? I guess Gold is pretty beastly."

She left Henry looking pensive as she ran upstairs to change.

* * *

Izzy had felt distracted all day. She felt bad about misleading Emma that morning. She seemed like a nice woman, wanting to do what was best for Ashley. Instead she was helping the very people who wanted to take Ashley's baby away from her.

That she was one of those people made Izzy's stomach twist uncomfortably.

She knew Ashley was in no place to raise a child. The fact that she had injured her husband and stolen from him was proof enough of that. But she supposed desperate people went to desperate measures.

She had to think of the couple who were adopting the baby. They were innocent in all this, just wanting to give a child a good home. That was who Izzy was fighting for. The fact that she knew exactly how they felt did not escape her. She and Andrew had been married for three years. In all that time she'd never been on the pill. They'd never discussed trying to have a child, but they'd never taken any efforts to prevent pregnancy. The fact that it hadn't happened led Izzy to believe there was something wrong with her. She was positive they weren't ready for a baby, but seeing how adamant Andrew had been about protecting children, the way his eyes lit up when he saw Henry, she couldn't help but imagine a child of their own. If the last three years were any indication, adoption might one day be their only option.

She leaned her head against the circulation desk, willing away the headache forming behind her eyes, when her cell phone rang shrilly in the quiet of the library.

"Hello?" she answered wearily.

"Izzy?" came Ruby's frantic voice from the other end of the line. "It's Ashley. She crashed my car trying to get out of town and now she's gone into labor."

"Oh my God," was all Izzy could think to say. Had their search for her friend led Ashley to try to skip town? She could have been hurt, she could have lost the baby. Izzy felt a stab of guilt. She was angry with Ashley for what she'd done to Andrew, but she didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

"Look, I know you guys haven't been getting along great lately, but I thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah, Ruby, thanks for calling. I'll be right there."

Before she could hang up Ruby interjected.

"Don't tell your husband, okay?"

Izzy felt that pang to her stomach again. "Ruby, he's not a –"

"Just don't," Ruby entreated. "She's been trying to better herself for this baby. I don't want to see that all go to waste."

"Okay," Izzy agreed.

She hung up the phone and grabbed her jacket. Flipping the library sign to closed, she headed off down the street to the hospital.

Andrew would find out eventually. Right now, she needed to do what was best for that baby.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin made his way through the stark hallways of Storybrooke General to the waiting room of the maternity ward. He vaguely wondered what the doctors and nurses here had done for the past 28 years. Ella's baby would be the first born in Storybrooke. Not for the first time, Rumple was glad that he'd been as unaware of the passage of time as anyone else in this town. It must have been frightfully boring for Regina.

He was startled to find Belle in the waiting room, heads together with the savior, talking in low voices.

"The child was to be adopted," his wife was saying. "I thought it was for the best."

"I can understand that," Emma said sympathetically. "But the moment Ashley decided to keep her baby that agreement should have been null and void. Anyone who wants to be a mother should damn well be able to."

"I agree," Belle shrugged. "But my husband can be quite implacable."

They were interrupted by the arrival of one of the doctors.

"Miss Swan, the baby is a healthy 6-pound-girl, and the mother is doing fine."

Taking that as his cue, Rumple stepped forward from the hallway beside the nurse's station.

"What lovely news," he said. "Excellent work, Miss Swan. Thank you for bringing me my merchandise."

Emma and Izzy spun around to face him.

"Merchandise?" Izzy asked, anger coloring her voice. "What are you playing at, Andrew?"

Rumple leaned heavily against his cane. The last thing he needed was a public argument with Izzy. All he wanted was to gain his favor from the Savior. He knew nothing about this world outside of Storybrooke's borders, but Emma did. She also had a knack for finding people. Once Regina's curse was broken, he would need her help to find Baelfire. She would never give him that help willingly. Securing a favor from her was the only way.

Belle would understand, once he had her back. At least that's what he told himself.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go check on Miss Boyd?" he asked, effectively dismissing her. "Offer her your congratulations."

Izzy crossed her arms against her chest, staring him down resolutely. Belle was definitely starting to take hold in meek little Izzy.

"I don't think so. I'm the second to last person she wants to see right now."

Izzy turned and placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Do you mind if I have a moment alone with my husband?"

Emma just shrugged, looking from one Gold to the other. "Go ahead."

Izzy dragged Gold away from the waiting room, stopping next to an ancient coffee machine.

"No more games, Andrew," she whispered. "I know you feel the need to put on your growly face with the rest of this town, but be honest with me. What is your plan for that baby?"

"I've already told you," Rumple sighed. "I've found a suitable home for the child. Everything will be fine."

Izzy reached out, grabbing him by his free hand. "I am begging you, as your wife, please let Ashley keep her baby. You can't rip a newborn out of its mother's arms. We have no right to decide her fate for her."

In that moment she sounded so much like Belle, blue eyes shining with the righteousness of her conviction, that every fiber of his being wanted to say yes. He wanted to pull her into his arms, agree to her every desire if she'd only come back to him, his beautiful, brave Belle.

But he couldn't. For three hundred years he had only one purpose, to find and apologize to his son. That wasn't going to change. If he had to break Izzy's heart for a moment to ensure his ability to find his son, so be it.

"I can't," he replied, looking away from her. He couldn't face Belle's gaze.

"Fine," Izzy nodded, voice thick with emotion. "Have it your way."

She turned away after a moment, her high heels clacking against the tile floor as she retreated. Rumplestiltskin decided that was an opportune moment to take out his frustration on the coffee machine, slamming his hand against it repeatedly.

"A baby? That's your merchandise?" The Savior asked, coming up along side the coffee machine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because at the time, you didn't need to know," he replied smartly.

"Really?" she asked, arms crossed in defiance. "Or you thought I wouldn't take the job?"

Rumplestiltskin popped a couple of quarters into the machine, watching as the coffee filled up a paper cup. It was time to corral Miss Swan right where he needed her.

"On the contrary, I thought it would be more effective if you found out yourself. After seeing Ashley's hard life, I thought it would make sense," he paused before readying to push the button to trigger the Savior. "To you. I mean if anyone could understand the reasons behind giving up a baby, I assumed it would be you."

"You're not getting that kid," Emma said determinedly. Rumplestiltskin had to suppress a smile. She was playing right into his hand.

"Actually we have an agreement, and my agreements are always honored," he took a sip of the bitter coffee, walking back toward the waiting area. "If not, I'm going to have to involve the police, and that baby will wind up in the system. You didn't enjoy your time in the system, did you, Emma?"

A look of something akin to fear flitted across the Savior's face. Rumplestitlskin vaguely wondered at what exactly this woman had been through in her twenty-eight years.

"That's not going to happen," Emma declared.

"I like your confidence," he needled her. "But all I have to do is press charges. She did, after all, break into my shop.

"Yeah, to steal a contract!" From the looks of things, Emma was starting to get desperate. He could always make a deal with a desperate soul.

"You know no jury in the world is going to send a woman to jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child," The Savior said with false confidence. "I'm willing to roll the dice that contract doesn't stand up. Are you?"

In truth, Mr. Gold was quite a thorough attorney. Every line in the contract was completely, bindingly legal. He had managed to phrase everything in just the right way. Emma didn't really have a leg to stand on, but he wouldn't tell her that.

At the look of uncertainty he allowed to cross his face, Emma continued, growing bolder.

"Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow I suspect there's more to you than a simple pawnbroker," she said, glancing over her shoulder to where Izzy was sitting with Henry. "Does your wife know all your secrets, Mr. Gold? I'd hate for anything to come between the two of you. You seem so – well suited."

Rumplestiltskin let his eyes linger on Izzy across the room. She was a rather obvious Achilles heel, but he was still surprised Emma would go for it right away. She was obviously willing to do anything to let Ashley keep this baby. Good.

"I like you, Miss Swan," he replied with a smile. "You're not afraid of me, and that's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I'd rather have you on my side."

"So she can keep the baby?" Emma asked hopefully.

"Not just yet," Rumple stopped her. "There's still the matter of my agreement with Miss Boyd."

"Tear it up," Emma shrugged, betraying the trademark Charming obtuseness.

"That's not what I do," he replied, dusting off his dealmaker façade and using it for the first time in decades. "You see contracts, deals, they're the very foundation of all civilized existence. If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?"

"What do you want?" she asked immediately. A desperate soul indeed.

"Oh I don't know just yet," Rumple lied. "You'll owe me a favor."

"Deal," the Savior replied immediately before walking back over to Henry. Stupid, really. Agreeing to a deal without understanding the terms is what got Ashley into this mess to begin with. Now Emma was following suit. She was her father's daughter.

Lucky for the Savior he didn't have anything nefarious planned for her. She would simply help him find his son. He was one step closer to Baelfire.

He tried to let that thought buoy him as Izzy stalked over to him, storm clouds in her eyes.

"You can't make an exception when your own wife asks you to, but you'll do it for a complete stranger?" Izzy demanded, outraged. "Do I mean nothing to you?"

Rumplestiltskin did his best to uphold Mr. Gold's stoic demeanor. This wasn't the time or the place to let his façade slip.

"She gave me something of value in return, dear," he said. "Miss Swan has defied the Mayor and now she has done the impossible, convinced me to compromise. She's an important ally to have."

Izzy just looked at him, her mouth slightly agape. "This is still about Regina, isn't it? This is about your sick power struggle with her. Well I don't want to be a part of it. You used me, Andrew! Just like you use everyone else in this town!"

Her raised voice was drawing spectators, Ruby was watching from across the waiting room and several of the hospital staff had looked over with perked up ears.

"Sweetheart, can't we have this conversation somewhere more private?" he asked placatingly, trying to steer Izzy away from the waiting room to a less populated area of the hospital. Izzy simply shrugged his hand off and continued.

"And here for a moment I thought you actually cared about what happened to that child. You never had any intention of taking Ashley's baby, did you?"

"No," he replied, looking down at where his hands were clasped over the head of his cane.

"And what about the family that were going to adopt her?" Izzy asked.

"I'd already informed them that the birth mother had changed her mind," he replied truthfully.

"So it was all a lie then? Everything you said about the child's best interest, that was all just a way to get me to go along with this?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I do care what happens to that child. If Miss Boyd is prepared for motherhood, I won't stand in her way."

"But you only make that decision when it's most convenient for you," Izzy spat at him.

He couldn't do this here. He needed to speak to her in private, where he could grovel and beg her forgiveness. If he was seen behaving that way in public, there were sure to be questions. Regina would realize he had awoken and Belle would be in danger.

He looked at her, silently pleading for her understanding.

"Can we go home and discuss this in private?" he asked tersely.

Izzy shook her head. "I'm going home. You can sleep at the shop tonight."

With that Izzy spun on her heel and stormed over to where Ruby was standing. The waitress wrapped an arm around his wife, shooting him an angry glance as Belle began to cry.

Rumplestiltskin headed out to the parking lot, tossing his half drunk coffee in a bin on the way out. Today he'd won one small victory, and had one devastating loss.


End file.
